Alucard's Asinine Adventures in America
by Pootis McTootis
Summary: Alucard is forced to do an assignment he doesn't want to with people he doesn't like in a country he hates with a passion. But that proves to be the least of his concerns when he's forced to face the dark deeds of his past... A story more accurate to that of Vlad Tepes than it is to Alucard, and a chance to shed some light on an unsung hero. Rated M because... well, it's Hellsing.
1. Chapter 1: The Assignment

_In all of my years of experience, one thing has remained consistent; vampires get stronger in media, and weaker in real life. In fact, you, reading this currently, if you've ever killed someone, chances are they were a vampire. I've divided vampires into three categories to help you understand this shift; the Premees, Pre-Flood vampires who were basically JoJo's Bizarre Adventure characters; Boomers, vampires who spawned after the flood, and occasionally spawned a gem or two, such as myself, and Millennials, everything that came after the Fall of Dracula. These "Millennials" are the weakest of all vampires, as they got the least share of DNA. A decent shot from a copper-coated bullet will put them out of their misery with ease. _

_-excerpt from The Vampire Journals _

Chapter 1: The Assignment

The camera panned towards the cave, closer and closer, revealing its darkness in full 4K HD. The stalactites hanging off the ceiling were visible in the most detailed form, with crisp shots of water dropping off of them and onto stalagmites. The camera panned deeper and deeper into the darkness, trudging on past the eeriness and shallow sounds of water dripping.

Suddenly, a raccoon lunged from the darkness, sailing over the camera, and the camera toppled over as the sound of screams arose from behind.

"And that's why National Geographic won't make Planet Earth 2", Alucard said as he swapped the tabs back to Count Dankula. Whilst listening to the beautiful sounds of the melodic trashcan accent of the Nazi Commie Scot, he swapped tabs to catgirl hentai.

He was, in the most unholy of ways, bored out of his mind. After figuring out that the Nazi's were behind all of the vampire attacks, and had totally ruined his vacation to Brazil, he had wanted a "Thank you", or at least a, "That wasn't horrible", or even the most legendary, "You were right! It was the Nazi's!", from Integra, purely for the orgasmic high he would have received upon hearing such words, but so far, not even a peep out of her about it, and it had already been a week. So, in the interest of exercising his most-used muscle, he was forced to resort to traditional methods.

Not saying that those methods were horrible by any means. Women were either too rough or too gentle with him, and men only seemed to have an interest in his ass. He knew all of the right strokes and positions to make everything much more pleasurable for himself.

He was about to go ham on his piggy when the door to the basement burst open, and a cute woman with short, messy blond hair that had been tied into a pony tail, thick thighs and massive cans came flying down the stairs. Alucard barely had time to swap tabs back to National Geographic Fails before the well-rounded individual was in his personal space. He turned his swivel chair to face her, his face showing a large grin of sparkly white and incredibly sharp teeth.

"Police Girl! How many times do I have to tell you to knock before it gets stuck in your head?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Master, were you in the middle of something", Seras Victoria, affectionately known as Big Titty Police Girl, Apprentice, or That One Over There, asked him with a childlike sense of curiosity and wonder that she somehow had yet to lose in this entirely new world she had been shown.

"Maybe", Alucard responded.

The computer screamed out, "Onii-chan diskee!", and Alucard reached down to mute it.

Victoria's head flickered briefly towards the computer with a frown on her face and question marks forming in her eyes.

"So", Alucard said, "did you burst in here for a reason or do you just enjoy ruining my alone time?"

"Oh, yes", Victoria said, a sense of purpose flooding over her features, returning the smile that had briefly disappeared. "Sir Integra requests your presence immediately!"

"Of course she does", Alucard said with a sigh, and stood up from his swivel chair.

He straightened his crimson suit jacket, and pressed the power button on the computer. One time, he had forgotten to do that, and now poor old Walter was addicted to trap porn. Or so Alucard liked to think.

He walked up the long stairway, still stained with blood from What's-His-Face's absurd attempt to infiltrate Helsing Manor... that had almost succeeded. At the top of those stairs, he took a right, and began the long journey down to Ms. Helsing's office. Alucard didn't think of her as Ms. Helsing or Sir Integra unless there was company around, but while Victoria was still in the unofficial "probation" stage of training, he had to constantly assert that she was the big boss, as per her request. Not that she needed much help with doing that, he thought.

As he trudged down the hall, Victoria trotted up behind him, and kept pace at around a two-foot distance. The two of them made for a stark contrast, him being clad almost head to toe in crimson and gray garb, epic hat and crimson tinted sunglasses, with she in her short shorts and official Helsing uniform with rolled-up sleeves behind him, he with his large nose and black hair, she with her cute button nose and blond hair, he with his bright red eyes, and she with her bright blue ones, he with his chiseled, hairy chest and-

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of boots scuffing next to him. He swiveled his eyes to see a freshly purchased mercenary stepping around him. The new guys seemed to give him a wide berth, which wasn't unusual, seeing as how the old guys had, too, before they had been massacred by the ghoul army that had invaded their manor. It seemed most people gave him this berth nowadays, which, ironically, would have bothered him in his early life. In his early life, he was a hero to the people, and whenever he had ridden his horse through the cobblestone streets or across the beaten dirt paths of Wallachia, children had ripped away from their fathers' grasps to run behind him, shouting his name and proclaiming him their friend, brother, and savior.

He shook himself from such thoughts. That had been the fifteenth century. This was the twenty first. Time to focus on the present.

He boldly pushed forward, until he reached a large wooden door, which he ripped open without a second thought.

"Yellow", he yelled as Integra closed her laptop.

She scowled at him from behind her desk, asking, "Haven't you heard of knocking?"

"Maybe", Alucard said nonchalantly, giving her a causal glance before turning his gaze around the room, searching for other people. "Were you in the middle of something", he asked upon not spotting anyone else.

"Maybe", Integra said simply.

"Onii-chan, diskee!", her computer blurted out. Integra opened the lid wide enough to smash the mute button, and then closed it again.

Alucard was seasoned enough to not avert his gaze, but Victoria couldn't seem to help herself with the questioning glances today. Alucard jabbed an elbow into her shoulder, and she seemed to remember herself. Her cheerful, bubbly complexion returned once more.

"I have brought Master as you have requested, ma'am", she said gleefully, wrapping her hands behind her back in a pseudo parade rest.

"Thank you, Police Girl", Sir Integra said simply. "You may leave now."

"Oh", Victoria said simply, the bubbly complexion once again fading. She about-faced and walked out the open door.

Sir Integra nodded to it once she had cleared it, and Alucard shoved it closed.

"I see we're on the same episode, Integra", Alucard said nonchalantly.

Integra Helsing rolled her eyes and motioned for Alucard to take a seat. He did so diligently, flopping into it like he owned it, and crossing his leg over the other. He templed his fingers, staring at Integra over the point. The grin reappeared.

"So, whatchya got for me today", he asked.

"I'm calling in a favor."

This caught a raised eyebrow from Alucard. Integra hadn't called in a favor in ten years, and when she had, it hadn't been pretty. The bodies he had buried that night had been bodies he'd sworn he would never interact with again, positively OR negatively. He dipped his head slightly, signaling that he wasn't interested.

"If you do this", Integra said to him, "you can do anything you want for a day."

"Anything", Alucard asked, annunciating the word syllable by syllable.

"You can use the budget however you like", Integra explained, "you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, for a twenty-four-hour period. You can buy a country, take a rocket ship to the moon, hell, you can ram it in my asshole for all I care."

Alucard's other eyebrow shot up, but Integra knew as well as Alucard did that that wasn't a good sign. If she was trying this hard to sweeten the deal, it was going to be something that Alucard more than definitely didn't want to do. He was tempted to say no right off the bat, but he knew that if he did, it would be to his detriment. If Integra was desperate enough to give the loosest cannon in the known world a _favor_, then there was no doubt that she would go to great lengths to get her objectives achieved. Great lengths that would probably put the Helsing Organization at risk.

And for Alucard, who had seen the company's inception, and had a blood oath tied to the family who ran said Organization, that simply couldn't happen.

"Aright", Alucard said carefully, "I'll bite. Get it? Because I'm a vampire? Mwuhahahaha!"

Integra never laughed at his jokes anymore.

Integra reached under her desk, and withdrew a manila folder, throwing the thing onto the desk near Alucard. Alucard lowered an eyebrow, and opened the folder up. He got as far as the location when the grin completely faded, and he flipped the folder closed, simply saying "No".

"Alucard", Integra began, but was cut off by the much older man.

"NO."

"Alucard", Integra began again.

"NO! I told you that I would never go back to America again!"

"Alucard", she said, and waved a hand under her desk, "remember the ass."

"Not good enough", Alucard said, and stood up. He turned towards the door, practically yelling, "We've been over this! Never America! And you damn well know why!"

"Alucard", Integra called as he walked towards the door. Her voice almost dropped to a whisper as she said a word he hadn't heard from her since she was a small child. "Please."

With a hand on the door handle, Alucard stopped cold. He could remember, clear as day, back when she used to use that word liberally, asking for Alucard or Walter to pass something as menial as a napkin. When she had grown into her teens, she finally understood the power she truly wielded, and "please" had completely dropped from her vocabulary, even when asking for big things like nuclear bombs from powerful countries.

Alucard ever so slightly twisted his head her way.

After a long moment of silence, he finally said, "Ok. Tell me."

"Three hit jobs. It's all I'm asking for."

"Bullshit."

"Honest."

"Who?"

"A homunculus, a werewolf, and a vampire."

"Doesn't sound like something you'd need me for."

"I don't have anyone else I can trust."

That gave him pause. While it was true that they no longer had any professionals outside of Walter, who was sworn to Integra's side, and Alucard himself, certainly there were people she could trust still alive in... or outside... this castle.

"There's not another soul on Earth that could possibly do this job?"

"I made a deal with the American Government", Integra explained, "a few amongst said government want these targets dead for various reasons. They agree to levy support for the Helsing Organization if we send our top agent to eliminate these three targets."

"And you couldn't say something along the lines of, 'The Frenchman is our top agent'?"

"Who would believe that a Frenchman is a top agent of anything?"

"True, but you know what I mean."

"Everyone knows that Alucard the Wallachian is our top agent."

"Now you're calling me Wallachian?"

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

Alucard shrugged, and turned back towards Integra. He walked towards her desk, and plopped back down on the seat. Without saying a word, he held out his hand, and Integra passed him the folder again. Alucard went through the file again. He read through the vampire's file, which was quite extensive. Supposedly, he had an army and was well versed in hypnosis. If he thought a few sleight-of-hand magic tricks were going to save him from a .455 to the face, he had another thing coming.

He glanced up at Integra, noting, "For the werewolf attacks, there's almost nothing except for police records and a few eyewitness accounts. No operational platforms, no strength ratings, not even a mention of whether or not it might have a handler. Any particular reason why that one made the list?"

Integra shrugged.

"What do I know? They made the list."

"Who's 'they'?"

"They'd rather not say."

"Of course they wouldn't", Alucard quipped, and then went back to it. After another moment, he glanced back up, saying, "For the homunculus, there's next to no information on who sired it."

"You should expect that", Integra said, looking down her nose at him in a curious manner.

Alucard shrugged.

"Doesn't make my job any easier", he commented.

Which was true, in a sense. Information on who had sired the homunculus would make things a lot easier; patterns, characteristics and even thoughts could be pre-determined from such a seemingly meaningless piece of information. Plus, there was the whole, "hunting them down in my spare time to make sure they don't dabble in black magic again" aspect.

Alucard glanced down again, read one more line, and immediately glanced back up.

"Am I being punished", he asked.

"No", Integra immediately responded. But as she said this, she lifted a hand to push a lock of hair behind her ear. It was her "tell" that Alucard had gleaned from practically raising her; she was lying.

"You don't sound very convincing", Alucard casually responded.

"You are not being punished", Integra repeated, and this time she didn't push a lock of hair back, but he could tell that she was still lying.

"Why am I being punished?"

"You're not", she quickly responded.

"Integra-"

"The grooming gangs", she replied quickly. She didn't elaborate.

Alucard stared at her, trying to gauge her body language. She was ramrod straight, trying to convince herself that she was right. After a moment of silence, he relented.

"Who complained?"

"I can't say."

"Assdick."

"Alucard", Integra began, and released a deep breath. "You know how the political climate is. Parliament won't stand for any action against a minority group, certainly not one with such controversy surrounding it."

Alucard grew a wicked grin on his face. He HATED grooming gangs, and he hated, with a passion, anyone who tried to protect them with the bullshit excuse that muslims were a peace-loving minority. He had born witness to just how much they loved peace, and even if he could find a way to overlook the hypocrisy, he couldn't help but hate them for what they did to him and his brother.

Or his whole country, for that matter. Or the billions of Christians they had murdered over a thousand and more years, to take it a step further than that. Or the trillions of other innocent lives that had been destroyed so thoroughly by their impudent rampaging.

"So someone in Parliament is being a whiney bitch?"

"Alucard-"

"I'll prepare them a little going-away present, then!"

"Alucard, don't!"

"It'll be the gift that keeps on giving, and I ain't talkin' AIDS!"

"If you do anything to the Parliament Building, I will saddle you with an additional assignment in America!"

"Why not", Alucard said, "I'm there anyway."

"Alright then", Integra said with a huff, slapping another file down.

Alucard picked it up, flipped it open, read exactly five seconds of its contents, and then slapped it back down with a peeved expression.

"Really?"

"You wanted it like this", Integra said, folding her arms. "This, or you could not be an asshole for once in your-"

"Oh, now I'm gonna be a mega-asshole."

"Then it's settled! A few minutes of tomfoolery for a few hours of serving the Organization!"

"Very well! I shall do this for you since I'm an asshole!"

"Fine!"

"Good!"

"Ok!"

"Whatever!"

"Fuck off!"

"Good talk", Alucard said, "I guess I'll go pick out a team for the intrusion into hostile foreign-"

"Actually, I already picked out a team for you."

"Oh, really, Integra, you shouldn't have. I know exactly who I work with best-"

"Has all been wiped out."

"... Ok, I'll give you that one. Who did you pick, out of curiosity?"

"Your apprentice, for starters."

"A logical choice... if you think she's ready."

"You need to train her", Integra said bluntly, "for real. She'll never survive if you don't show her how it's done."

"Now that's a load of bullshit. I did it on my own!"

"You're practically immortal."

"_Practically_ and _completely_ are two very different things."

"You're not getting out of this. Frankly, I don't know why you would want to get out of this; you're the one who sired her."

Alucard shrugged. Integra held his gaze for a moment, and then continued.

"Four Americans."

"Get them off of my team."

"Alucard, you need people who are familiar with the areas you will be visiting! It will help you in numerous ways!"

"Name one!"

"What if you get lost?!"

"... good point. Alright, they stay, but they probably won't survive the trip. Frankly, I'd be surprised if Police Girl survives the trip."

"She will if you train her."

Alucard shrugged again.

"Anyone else", he asked.

Integra sighed.

"The Frenchman."

"He's dead."

"Alucard!"

"He is one thousand percent not surviving this trip."

"He's the leader of these Mercs, Alucard. They all like him. He unites them well. And quite frankly, he's rather handsome and I've taken a liking to him."

She was just saying that to cover him, Alucard knew. She didn't form attachments with Mercs; it was a very strict rule of hers. Alucard shrugged anyway.

"Doesn't excuse him from being French."

"What do you have against the French, anyway?"

"Napoleon screwed me over in a game of chess. Have you noticed that they haven't won a war since?"

"Forget about Napoleon! Pip isn't Napoleon!"

"Now you're naming them?"

"That's his name!"

"Sure", Alucard said with a dismissive wave. "Anyone else who won't be surviving this mission?"

"That's it, unless you count yourself. Now go to the lobby, you'll meet your team there."

"My team", Alucard said with narcissism practically dripping from his lips.

"Your team. Go meet them."

With that, Sir Integra turned back to her paperwork, and said no more. Alucard didn't press her anymore. He stood up, straightened his suit, and turned to leave. He opened up the door, and walked out, traveling down the hall at a depressed clip, lost in thought. He wasn't worried about the homunculus, or the vampire, or even the additional assignment. It was the werewolf attacks.

Several things bothered him about it, one of which he already mentioned to Integra. For one, at least two of the police photographs showed deviation in the size of the claw marks used for ripping and tearing, which wasn't entirely cause for concern in and of itself, except that the hair samples had also been fundamentally different in color, but were the same length. The real telling sign was that at the two different sights, the different claw marks were similar to one another, and yet, the method of kill was drastically different from the other photographs. So, they either had a werewolf who was trying to act like two different werewolves, or they had at least two werewolves to deal with.

Two werewolves weren't a problem. What was a problem was the efficiency of the kills, all quick stuff, decapitations in all but the two different ones, which targeted the chest cavity, but had clean swipes to vital organs both times. These werewolves, if there were more than one, were trained how to kill, and rather efficiently. What that suggested was that they had a handler, someone who was willing to brave the stench to train them, someone who was brash, ruthless, and efficient. Which meant two things.

These werewolves were organized. They were savage, but even in borderline bloodlust, they were trained well enough that they naturally targeted areas of a body that would take someone out of a fight quickly. That was worrisome in and of itself, considering he now had to play the role of babysitter to five very vulnerable humans. But what really disconcerted him was the nagging suspicion that this handler was someone he knew. Someone he simultaneously never wanted to see again... and that killed him slowly every second they were apart.

He had no evidence to even remotely suggest that this was the case, but he had forgone his gut in the past, and each time he had, it had cost him dearly.

Suddenly, he felt nauseous. He wanted to find a trashcan and dispel all of the blood he had ever consumed in a sudden and violent surge. Equally, he felt suddenly, incredibly scared, and for the first time in nearly two hundred years, he felt completely and utterly alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by a wall slamming into his face.

"Fuckshitassballs", he cursed silently, and corrected his course towards the lobby.

Strolling into the lobby like his dick had been there four minutes ago, Alucard took a casual glance at his crew. Even in a more relaxed position, they were fully armed and armored, except for Pip, because Pip was a bastard and preferred to wear a stupid outback hat. Other than that, he was somewhat properly armed with a 1911 at his hip, a weapon not intended for the actual guards of Helsing Manor. For the actual guards, as the four Americans were, they were allowed only Glock 19's in case anyone needed to trade magazines with each other. Beyond that, they were allowed an M4, customizable to their liking, an AK, generally a 7.62x39 model, or a Ghalil chambered in 7.62x39 if they were really special.

All of the guards wore special steel body armor, cut from Army Hummers and refitted for plate carriers, and Kevlar helmets, unless they were a bastard like Pip or invincible like Alucard. At the very least, Pip had his body armor on. Since it was cut as thick as it was, it could stop 7.62x51mm with relative ease, a drastic upgrade from the Kevlar of the Old Guard, as Alucard enjoyed referring to the previous batch of inglorious bastards who had taken the job of being Ms. Helsing's little bitches.

The men of the lobby had been softly speaking amongst each other before Alucard had walked in with a shit-eating grin covering his face. As soon as he came into sight, the men ceased their speech, and turned serious gazes on him. Police Girl was silently drumming the tips of her fingers against each other, and as soon as he walked in, she stopped thrumming, and looked up at him, inquisitive. Pip had had his eye on Alucard's approach the entire time, and merely raised the eyebrow over his bad eye.

Alucard widened his grin, saying, "Sup?"

He loved approaching situations contrary to how people are used to handling them. These men were Mercenaries, with military training. They were used to the hierarchy pouring it on them, taking those orders, and being mindless grunts. Now they were forced to answer before he had finished speaking to them, something that they were most definitely not used to.

Pip kept his eyebrow raised, and glanced towards his men with his one good eye. His men all shared confused glances, but Alucard took careful note that one of the four looked nervous at this approach.

"You guys ready for some gay shit?"

The men mumbled amongst themselves, not quite sure how to respond to that.

"Then let's get a few things straight. One; with the exception of Police Girl, the chances of you guys surviving this little safari are at micro-penis levels."

They looked unimpressed by this calculation. Mercenaries were expensive, and didn't require publicity. If there was any experience among them within their respective fields, low survival probabilities were probably rather common occurrences. Nevertheless, Alucard felt compelled to warn them.

"Two; since I'm experienced with fighting what most men would call 'absolute bullshit', I'm in charge. If Pip tells you all that you're going to hot breach a building, and I tell you all to jerk each other off instead, what are you all going to do?"

"Jerk each other off, sir", one of them answered in a thick southern accent nonchalantly.

"Excellent", Alucard said without breaking flow. This was going smoothly. Too smoothly. He needed to shake things up.

"Three, and probably the most important rule of all; America sucks. Period. If I tell you to spray-paint a dick on the statue of liberty, are you going to bitch and complain about it?"

"No, sir", one of the men, with a softer mid-western accent, responded immediately.

"And that is because..."

"America sucks, sir", another one with a full western accent, one much thicker than the last, responded immediately.

These men were prepared for his bullshit, it appeared. That didn't sit well with him. If these guys weren't rattled at bone level by now, that meant they may have previously had experience with the paranormal. If that were the case, they may feel compelled to take the initiative. If they took the initiative, they were targets. If they stayed behind Alucard, however, they had five hundred years of horrific bastard between them and whatever the world could throw at them.

Drastic measures would have to be taken if the rest of them were to have a chance at survival. He had an idea of where to start, but for now, it was only an idea.

"Well, if you all understand the basic rules, then go back to your rooms and crank one out. It'll keep you lose for when we have to try to get through airport security with all this hardware tomorrow."

Pip re-raised his eyebrow at that.

"Don't we have special clearance for stuff like that?"

"No, actually", Alucard replied evenly, "we're off the books enough that we don't have registries in the airports, and furthermore, we generally rely on private transport. But since I've been so naughty, Parliament has decided to impound our vehicles just to be cockwads."

Which wasn't technically false, as far as Alucard knew. After all, they did this the last time he had pulled some shit. Then again, the last time he had pulled some shit, it had involved ramming a plane into a statue of Margaret Thatcher. A complete and total cocaine-fueled accident, but still not an acceptable accident according to those tight-wads.

"So, get some sleep, crank one out, maybe not specifically in that order, and I'll see you all tomorrow with all your gear in this lobby."

Alucard let that hang there for a moment, and then added, "Or in nothing but your underwear. That works too."

The Americans all nodded amongst each other. Victoria frowned. Pip once again raised his eyebrow.

"Not you, Pip", Alucard rebuked, "keep your damn pants on."

Pip shrugged, and everyone began scattering. Alucard turned to leave when the PA speakers blared once again.

"Alucard, Police Girl, please come to my office immediately."

"Well", Alucard said with a sigh, "so much for cranking one out before-"

He paused, and thought about what he was saying, and checked the clock on the wall.

"Yeah, I've got time", he decided, and then headed for Integra's office at his moderate walk.

Police Girl bounded her way down the hallway, easily overtaking him. Alucard eased his way down the hallway, not particularly caring to keep a fast pace. When he finally got to the room, he threw open the door.

"What's up, fuckers?"

Ms. Helsing sat with a serious expression behind her desk, which wasn't anything unusual, and Police Girl sat in a chair in front of the desk, looking happily at Alucard. There was one open chair in front of the desk, and Alucard sat down in it. For many uncomfortable seconds, there were no words spoken. Alucard maintained his wicked grin.

"Alucard", Integra said, "I called you in here today because I believe that someone amongst this group here is feeding sensitive information to enemy agents."

"Whaaaaat", Alucard said, sounding surprised. He spared a worried glance towards Victoria. He really didn't want to lose his apprentice after gaining her so soon.

"Oh, no", Police Girl said, worry creasing her face, "that's really bad!"

"Way to state the obvious, Police Girl", Alucard said nonchalantly. For him, that was a rather harsh rebuke. "Did you learn about espionage in police school?"

"It has come to my attention", Integra continued, turning her gaze towards Alucard, "that I am currently looking at the person who is leaking sensitive information."

Police Girl turned and looked at him. Alucard held his gaze, as well as his grin.

"Well", he said, "I pity the person you're looking at. Actually", he continued, turning around in his chair, "is there someone behind me?"

"It's you, Alucard", Integra said blandly.

"Whaaaaat", Alucard said, sounding unconvinced. "Me? _Really? I'm _not leaking information to enemy agents! This is ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! You should be _ashamed _of yourself! I have never been, nor will I _ever be_, in contact with enemy agents! You are just judging me super harshly, and completely unfairly, because I'm a somewhat straight white male! I have a bit more integrity, and furthermore, a bit more _class_ than that!"

Right then, his phone rang.

_Yes, a lap dance is so much beeeeetter when the stripper is cryin' _

Alucard went rigid. Sir Integra templed her fingers, sinking lower to the desk in a predatory stance. Police Girl was simply appalled by his ringtone.

"Alucard", Sir Integra asked, "are you going to answer that?"

_Yes, a lap dance is so much beeeeetter when the stripper is cryin' _

"Honestly", Alucard said, choosing his words carefully, "I'm not sure I should."

_Well, I find it's quite a thrill... when she grinds me against her will... _

"Please, just turn that disgusting music off", Police Girl said, making a disgusted face.

_Yes, a lap dance is so much be- _

Alucard flipped his phone open.

"Helsing Organization, Alucar-"

"ALUCARD, OL' BUDDY, OL' PAL O' MINE", a possibly Irish – possibly Scottish – definitely not Italian accent screamed on the other end. This oddly enthused voice belonged to none other than Alexander Anderson, the Catholic Church's number one asshat- I mean exorcist-assassin.

"Hey, buddy", Alucard began, but was cut off by the enthused... Italian?

"Hey, Alucard, listen ta this", Alexander said, clearing his throat. "I've got a proposition for ya, and some real good news beforehand!"

"That's good, buddy", Alucard began, but was again cut off by the... Italian.

"Tha good news is, I'VE RIGGED YER SHTUPID CASTLE HELSING OR WHATEVER TA BLOW!"

"Oh", Alucard said, like a man finding out he had just got a life sentence with convicted murderers over shoplifting. "Um... ok-"

"Tha proposition is as follows", Alexander continued, "Ye've got fifteen minutes ta disarm all eighty four of tha bombs I've planted around yer castle, or else... well, everyone fookin' dies, how 'bout that?"

"Hey, uh", Alucard began, and thankfully wasn't interrupted again, "this isn't really a good time."

"What do ya mean it's not a good time", Alexander asked with disappointment and skepticism competing in his voice.

"I'm literally sitting in a meeting, with my boss, talking about having contact with enemy agents."

The line was deathly silent.

"Oh", Alexander said, after some time.

"Yeah", Alucard affirmed.

"Oh", Alexander said again, the whole situation finally sinking in.

"Yeah", Alucard affirmed again.

"Oh", he said once more, as it set in the whole way.

"Yeah", Alucard affirmed once more.

"Well", Alexander said, searching for the words, "that stinks."

"Yep", Alucard confirmed.

"So, um", Alexander said, rustling noises coming across the line, "I'm just gonna go disarm those bombs."

"Yeah", Alucard affirmed yet again.

"I'm sorry about this whole mess", Alexander began, but Alucard cut him off.

"No, it's mostly my fault, I guess" he rationalized. "I am the one who gave you the schema-", Alucard, suddenly remembering his place, derailed his own conversation. "HA HA HA never mind. Sorry about ruining our Wednesday."

"No problem", Alexander said. Beeping noises came over the line. "See ya for poker tomorrow!"

"Actually I'll be out of-", again, Alucard remembered his place. "Never mind, we'll talk about it later."

"Alrighty then", Alexander said, as affirming beeps came over the line, and the beeps ceased all together. "Toodaloo!"

"Toodles", Alucard replied, as he flipped his phone closed.

After several moments of awkward silence, Sir Integra finally spoke.

"Well", she asked, in a condescending tone, "who was that?"

"Wrong number", Alucard replied.

...

It had been an ass-chewing for the ages, and it had gone on for quite some time, at one point including a chair being thrown at his face. Alucard had had to do a lot of apologizing for those shenanigans, which, even by his own logic, served him right, considering all the apologizing she had to do on his behalf, and quite often. Police Girl had apparently been sufficiently "warned", and Alucard had been sufficiently trash-talked, so she sent them both to their respective rooms, Police Girl right across the hall from Integra, and Alucard back into the basement.

He sat here now, in his comfy nondescript chair, pondering the events of today. He would not be getting any sleep tonight; he rarely did anyway, and not simply because he was constantly a moody bitch, but simply because he didn't need it. So, he sat brooding, and pondering.

Hs thoughts were troubled. Everything about this mission was shitty, but his mind kept meandering back to the werewolves. Nothing about that was right, and his mind kept jumping to a dangerous conclusion, a conclusion he refused to draw.

He would get through this shitty mission. He would come home with at least the apprentice in tow. And he would do it all damn near flawlessly.

So long as he never saw _her_.

Throughout the night, he realized he needed to get his mind off things.

And just like that, the wicked grin returned.

...

The six glorious members of the American Expeditionary Extermination Force, or Domino Squad, as Alucard had suggested they be called, stood at the ready before the dawn was to break out in the middle of the lobby. The Mercs carried duffel bags, whilst Victoria had a rolling suitcase. Alucard didn't have anything but the clothes on his back. If he needed a new suit, he could get one fitted in America, and if he needed anything more than that, well... there were always naughty little men and women roaming around in the night that no one would miss.

And if that failed...

Well, it wouldn't. Because evil was a constant in his life. An inescapable constant.

Other than his two Silverballers and a metric fuckton of ammo and magazines, Alucard carried a single grenade, which bulged suspiciously in his pocket, an extra pair of sunglasses, an unlimited credit card and the documents that detailed each of their targets... and their little secondary mission. It was all he needed, considering he no longer sweated or gave off any kind of scent, or shed skin cells, for that matter.

The Mercs were travelling light; a single change of clothes, no body armor, handguns only, all broken down and carefully hidden for transfer. They wore t-shirts and jeans, all except for Pip, who wore his stupid hat, and Police Girl, who wore her Helsing shirt and some tasteful shorts.

"Everyone ready", Alucard asked with a grin.

Everyone nodded.

"Then let's get the fuck outta here", Alucard said, as he turned towards the door.

Outside, Walter awaited them with a car that would take them to the airport. He opened up the back door, allowing the Mercenaries to get comfortable, then opened the middle door for Police Girl and Alucard. Walter walked over to Alucard's side, and stood ramrod straight.

"Sir, if I may inquire", Walter began, but Alucard cut him off.

"Straight to the airport, old chap."

"Indeed, sir", Walter said, and closed his door.

Walter got into the driver's seat, and put the car in drive, having already warmed up the engine like a true gentleman.

Suddenly, the front doors to Helsing Manor slammed open, and Integra stormed out, steaming mad, and holding an RPG.

"ALUCARD, YOU COCKSUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!"

"Walter", Alucard inquired politely, "step on it, if you please?"

Walter spared a glance over his shoulder, and then responded, "Certainly, sir."

Walter stomped on the gas, and the car shot forward.

Victoria turned a horrified gaze towards Alucard.

"Master", she said in a mortified voice, "what did you do?"

The wicked grin and an RPG exploding next to them was the only response she received.

Parliament, 30 minutes earlier

Chelsea hated her job. She hated sitting around all day, doing nothing productive. They had fed her such bullshit about how "important" a job like hers was. Opening up the doors for lazy assholes in business suits who didn't give a damn about the country they ran? She could have done more good in the world as a garbage woman.

She looked down at the ring of keys as she walked towards the front doors. She didn't bother glancing up at the flags that flew lazily in the wind. She had seen them enough times to last a lifetime.

As she passed under the flagpoles, however, she felt something drop on her shoulder. It was too heavy to be a raindrop, and furthermore, it wasn't scheduled to rain for the next few days. She touched her shoulder with disgust, fully expecting to find bird poop.

Her fingertips came back red.

Something deep insider her told her not to look up at the flagpoles, that whatever was up there was not meant for her eyes. Nevertheless, even mortified as she was, morbid curiosity got the better of her, and her eyes followed streaking trails of blood that lanced all the way to the tops of the flagpoles.

At the top of each flagpole, a man was impaled there, the end of the pole inserted into the rectum, and gravity forcing the men the rest of the way down. The tops of the blood-stained flagpoles stuck out of the men's gaping maws, almost distracting from the looks of absolute terror and pain beyond imagine adorning their faces.

One of them twitched.

Chelsea screamed.

Alucard grinned.


	2. Chapter 2: Air Traveler's Woes

_Many are under the belief (based on an inaccurate and blatantly racist movie) that vampires are capable of having children with normal people. I will detest this baseless lie as adamantly as I detest putting pineapple on pizza. I myself have had a string of lovers throughout my life, each one hotter than the last, most of them crazier than they were hot, and never once have I had a child of my own. The dead, it seems, cannot impregnate the living. When I was a man, I didn't have time for a family. Now that I'm dead, A part of me wishes I had had other priorities. _

_-excerpt from The Vampire Journals _

Chapter 2: Air-Traveler's Woes

Walter pulled up to the drop-off zone, calm, cool, and collected. He straightened his tie, and opened up the driver's side door. Victoria reached out to open her door as well. Alucard put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

Walter greatly enjoyed doing his job, despite his near-constant blank expressions and homicidal nature. He had confided in Alucard (after much drink, a very rare occasion on all fronts), that his job was the only sense of purpose that he felt he had in life. Every time he opened a door for someone, or drove Integra to a meeting, or built someone a new firearm, it brought him one of very few pleasures he felt he could take in this life. He had mentioned that it was somehow all Alucard's fault, just before puking all over the vampire's lap and passing out.

Basically, opening the door for Victoria meant the world to him.

The Mercs, however, didn't get the message, and opened up their doors, bailing out and moving towards the back to retrieve their bags. As soon as they were out of the car, they put on gloves and sunglasses. More than likely, these guys had some domestic experience... some unpleasant domestic experience.

Walter opened the door for Miss Seras, and when she slipped out, he dipped his head in a sort of bow. Victoria curtsied for him, and went to the back for her suitcase. Walter went to the other side, and opened the door for Alucard. Walter shared a sly smile with him, to which Alucard grinned. He was training his student well so far. The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Walter held the door all the way open for the five-hundred-year-old pain in his ass otherwise.

Alucard stood, straightening his crimson suit, and walked around to the unloading platform. Walter followed him, clasping his hands behind his back. When they reached the other side, the Mercs were already unloaded, and waiting on the curb with their bags. Victoria was still getting her bag out of the back.

"Alrighty, faggolas", Alucard said, "follow my lead and when I tell you to go, GO. That's all. Thanks."

Alucard turned back to Walter, and crossed his arms over his stomach and lower back, and bowed deeply. Walter stretched out his arms, palms toward the sky, and returned his bow, cocking one leg out in front of him. Alucard returned to his normal height, turned towards the sliding doors, and walked through.

Almost immediately, the men behind him failed. Instead of bowing to Walter, they turned and followed him, all except for Pip, who turned to Walter and tipped his hat. Alucard would count it, but only because no one else did anything of the sort. Victoria gave him another curtsy, which he bowed towards. She was catching on faster than the trained professionals. He allowed himself a small grin.

He hated how often Walter was mistreated in his line of work. Yes, he was old and crotchety, and yes, his life was kinda boring and sad in a funny-ha-ha-I-hope-I-don't-end-up-like-that kinda way, but damnit if the man wasn't a swell dude. He would have jumped in front of a bullet for anyone here, and these stupid-ass Mercs wouldn't even give him the time of day. More than that, Alucard _respected_ the man. They had practically raised Integra together, and the whole "Integra has three dads and all of them are gay" joke was part of what had brought him and Walter so close together. Walter didn't have to do a damn thing that he did; he could have sat in the sidelines and retained his dignity, but he had sacrificed everything to make sure Integra grew up a proper woman. So much so, that Integra saw _him_ as more of a father figure than Alucard. He deserved to have the time of day.

He pushed his thoughts aside, and went into the airport. The interior of the airport treated them all to a great image of impatient people being forced to wait. Alucard, not having any bags, and assuming everyone had carry-ons, immediately moved to the ticket counter. The lady behind the counter raised an eyebrow at his approach.

"One... no, seven tickets to Philadelphia, and make sure they're all in first class, or I'm gonna throw a first-class fit."

The lady rolled her eyes and began typing on her keyboard. She looked up a moment later with a deadpanned expression, challenging Alucard's wicked grin.

"Sorry, sir", she said, "but everything's booked for the next... three years. Please leave."

"I think not", Alucard challenged. "Check again."

"Ok", the woman said. Without deviating her eyes from Alucard, she tapped on the keyboard once more. "Yep", she told him, "everything's booked."

"Is there any space", Alucard ventured, "in the cargo hold?"

"Let me check", she told him, without looking away. This time, she didn't even type. "Yep, all booked."

"Really", he said skeptically, as he reached into his wallet. "What if I did... this?"

He pushed a one-dollar bill across the counter. The attendant looked at him without amusement.

"Yep, still booked."

"Ok", Alucard said, as he pushed another dollar towards the attendant, "how about now?"

She continued to look unamused.

"Nope."

"Look, lady, two dollars is all I own. Are you gonna take the bribe, or walk away empty-handed?"

She glanced down at the two dollar bills on the counter, and after a moment of consideration, swiped them.

"I can book you something, but it won't be first class."

"I honestly didn't expect it to be", Alucard said, as he waited to get his tickets.

"I can at least put you all together-"

"That won't be necessary", Alucard told her, "I don't want the seat next to me smelling like sweaty pits and cigarette the entire trip."

"Actually", the woman told him, "the only seats we have open on the next flight are all together."

"Well", Alucard said with a sigh, "I guess that'll have to do."

He passed the unlimited card over the table, and she passed him the tickets. Alucard gave a nod to the boys, and they all picked up their gear and moved forward towards security. All of them, except for Police Girl, who looked around cluelessly for a moment, and then finally grabbed her suitcase, and followed.

The first checkpoint would be easy to cross. Alucard would pull his usual stunt. It worked every time. After that, he was going to have to improvise. Two more checkpoints. Two more improvs. He could do it.

"Let me in front", Alucard told them.

They obliged without a word, letting him through to the front. He walked straight up to the line, and waited.

Despite what people might think about someone who was more than five hundred years old, Alucard was not very good at waiting. Take it easy? Sure, save your energy for when you need it. Take it slow? Of course! Slow and steady wins the race, after all. Stand in line for a few hours? Yeah, no, fuck that.

One thing that Alucard had learned during his years of life, above all things; patience is good to have... in small doses. Even five hundred years is too damn short to not just go for it.

With this in mind, he began pushing through the crowd, muttering stuff about a "late flight". The others caught on, and began muscling their way through as well, except for Seras, who timidly asked people to let her in front of them. No one resisted her cuteness. She needed to learn to use it in a controlled environment, Alucard thought to himself.

When he reached the front, after many offensive slurs about his haircut, Alucard immediately went straight for the x-ray machine, did an about-face, and went for the metal detector. This was bound to get someone's attention, and, surprise, surprise, it did. A chubby security compliance officer walked right up to him.

"Can I help you, sir?"

Alucard whipped up his wicked grin.

"Well, I was going to get an x-ray, but then I remembered that it hurts my brain where the government put in that listening device."

He didn't look amused.

"Do you mind getting patted down?"

Which was code for, 'that, or I can gut-blast you right now'.

"Sure, why not?"

The officer began with Alucard's bulging pocket, as he knew he would, and produced the hand grenade. He gave the vampire a startled look, and wouldn't ya know, just enough time for Alucard to reach up and yank out the pin. His startled look grew incredibly large eyes, and he held up the grenade.

"GRENADE" Alucard yelled, in a panicked voice, "THAT MAN JUST PULLED OUT A GRENADE! I HEARD HIM SAY 'ALLAHU AKBAR' AND THEN HE PULLED THE PIN!"

Sometimes this one worked rather well, and other times it landed him in the airport jail. Either way, he was one step closer to the terminal.

"What", the officer said, "n-no, that's not-"

"Robert", another officer said, approaching him slowly, "I know you have been down since the divorce, but we can talk about this!"

"What", Robert yelled, "no, no, it's not-"

"Please, don't kill me sir", Alucard said, "I have a cat to take care of!"

"No, no", Robert said in a panicked voice, "no, I'm not-"

"Robert", the officer said, putting his hands up, and walking closer to him, "there's no need to do this! We can help you!"

"Please, sir", Alucard said, looking at the other officer, "I need to get home to see my dog, Gary!"

"Don't worry, sir", the officer said, "you can go on through."

"WHAT", Robert yelled, "you can't just do that for-"

"Thank you, sir", Alucard said, "my turtle will be pleased."

Alucard waved his two fingers forward, and the Mercs went forward, with a confused and worried Seras walking after them. As Alucard continued forward to the next checkpoint, he heard the officer, Robert, scream, "I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE", and released the hammer. Little did Robert know; the grenade was a dud. Alucard hoped that he was going to have a life-changing experience behind bars.

The next checkpoint was just like the first. The only difference was that Alucard didn't have a dud grenade this time. This time, he would have to improvise.

The line to this one was long as well. For the first few minutes, Alucard did not advance. He surveyed the security, doing what more military-savvy people would call "recon", looking for weaknesses to exploit. Lo and behold, he found it in an overweight female officer who was looking rather distracted. He began shoving his way forward, easily garnering her attention. When he approached the station, she halted him.

"Where do you think you're going", the woman asked nonchalantly.

"I'm going to meet your whore of a husband. While YOU'RE stuck here at the airport, pulling another all-nighter due to staff cuts, tonight we'll be having lava cake with an 1817 Port. We'll also be having sex. Lots of sex. Now, step aside."

The stricken woman did as he asked. Alucard motioned the Mercs and a still confused-and-worried-looking Police Girl forward.

Excellent progress, excellent timing. He was a bit suspicious that things were going a little too smoothly, though that could have more or less been a natural reaction. He had been a man of power during a time when power was sought by blood. Suspicion and a flexible neck had simply gone along with the times.

He started thinking about possible approaches to the next checkpoint, keeping them as simple as possible, but when he approached the third checkpoint, there was no one there. Confused, he looked around to try and find an officer, but to his good fortune, they seemed to have all gone to lunch at the same time, tired of bullying impatient travelers with their authoritarian restrictions. Surprised at his good fortune, he motioned the confused Mercs and bouncy Police Girl forward. They passed by the Sheeple who were still standing around, waiting for someone to tell them what to do, and exited the security checkpoints into the terminals.

Finally, they were in the terminals, and finding their flight was a breeze, as they had the good fortune to come out right at the gate they were departing from. They all took their seats next to each other, until Pip tried to sit next to Alucard. He responded by standing straight up and walking to the other side of the group. Pip shrugged and stayed where he was, and Seras, who had been sitting over on his other side, scooted in closer to Pip. No one said a word as they waited for their plane.

Alucard decided to take a moment to examine the Mercs he was traveling with. They were decidedly different from the ones he had fought with in the past. While the ones he had hired back in his time had been evil bastards, they had been a necessary evil... and furthermore, far less evil than what he had fought.

_"John 'Feather' Mason", he said in his thick Wallachian accent, to a man who was sharpening a nail. The man looked up at him, a grin creeping up onto his face. He himself allowed a small smile. "Are you ready?" _

_The grin turned wicked. _

_"Born for this, sir", he informed him in his British accent. _

_The fat Turk envoy burst through the door then, walking straight up to him, an accusing glare in his eye. He thrust a finger into his face, inches away from his thick mustache. _

_"You", the Turk didn't even bother addressing him by his name or even title. He was asserting his master's authority over him, like a dog snapping at a stranger. "You owe the Sultan money! A year's worth! And he demands you pay it NOW!" _

_He didn't rise to the bait. He kept his expression neutral, and turned his gaze towards John Mason, the curls on the back of his head falling around his shoulders as he did so. John gave him an almost imperceptible nod. He turned back to the Turk. _

_"Take your turban off." _

_"WHAT?!" _

_"It is impolite to wear a hat in my presence." _

_The Turk became furious, as he knew he would. _

_"Your presence?! You have no authority, no power! Whatever you have convinced yourself of, it is lies from the false god your father followed! How DARE you call my turban a hat! It is my conviction to Allah!" _

_He allowed a small smile to play across his lips. He nodded, and John Mason's two men, who had been waiting in the shadows, burst forth, grabbing the Turk by the arms and forcing him to the ground. The fat man shouted obscenities in his disgusting dialect, and he allowed the Turk to finish them all. _

_When the obese man was out of breath, panting from exertion, he told the Turk, "I am the authority here." _

_He nodded to John, who walked forward with his nail, asserting himself behind the Turk, and holding the nail on top of his head. _

_He stood from his throne, and strode calmly and confidently forward, holding out a hand. One of the mercenaries placed a hammer into it. _

_"The Sultan taught me to respect authority", he said, raising his hammer above his head, "or suffer dearly." _

_He brought the hammer down on the nail, eliciting a scream from the Turk and a barking laugh from John. _

_"He also taught me that whoever does the most violence rules." _

_He brought the hammer down again. Another scream, another laugh. Blood began trickling down the Turk's forehead. The Turk began sobbing, which brought more laughter from John. _

_"You have disrespected my authority with your trivial headpiece", he told the Turk, "and because of that, as per the Sultan's teachings, your headpiece, and your disrespect, will be eternally hewn together." _

_He raised the hammer once again, but he couldn't help but to inform him, "And my God is very much alive. Unlike your pagan god. And yourself." _

_He brought the hammer down a third time, and the nail went all the way through to his brain. The Turk writhed, and died. The mercenaries were now all barking laughter and joking in their British accents, as he stood there, holding the tool of his defiance in his hand, watching blood seep from the body of his true enemy. _

_And he realized that until he saw the same from the Sultan, he would never be happy. _

When groups first started being called out, Alucard almost didn't notice. But by the second group, he was up and alert. When group three was called, he stood up, and got in line. The Mercs all followed him, with Seras bouncing in behind them. When they made it to the front of the line, and the lady scanned their tickets, the machine made a beep that didn't sound good. She looked at their tickets, and looked back at them.

"Your flight is about twenty gates that way", she said, pointing to the right.

"Oh", Alucard said.

"And they just called for final boarding."

"SHIT", Alucard said, and sprinted for their terminal.

Fortunately, they came sprinting in right as they were about to close the doors. The desk ladies, pissed off, scanned their tickets, and herded them onto the plane like cattle. The flight attendants directed them to their seats; three on one row, three behind them, and one guy across from them. They decided rather quickly that the guy with the southern accent would sit across from them, and the other three nameless Mercs would sit behind Seras, who had the window, Alucard, who was in the middle, and Pip, who was by the aisle.

Alucard noticed right off the bat that the guy with the southern accent was a people person. The first thing he did was ask if it was "ok" for him to sit in his assigned seat to the person sitting next to him. Once they said it was so, and the southerner had taken his seat, he offered the person his snack, that he had paid for, for no apparent reason other than to be nice.

Alucard, however, also noted that even though Pip didn't stink, his very presence was annoying.

Once they were all buckled in, Seras tapped her master on the shoulder, asking, "Did you bring any headphones?"

"Other than the ones that go to my Walkman", Alucard said, holding up a pair of form-fitting headphones, "no."

Pip fished some out of his pocket, and passed them down to her.

"Oh", Seras said, almost skeptically, as she accepted the headphones cautiously, "thank you."

Pip tipped his hat and said nothing more.

That really, _really_, pissed Alucard off. And if he were completely honest with himself, he didn't really know why.

"I like listening to the in-flight music", Seras continued, unabated, and unaware in the change in her master's mood. "Do you like the in-flight music, Master?"

"Fuck no", Alucard told her. "I prefer listening to my _own _music when I need to relax."

"Relax", Seras asked, almost skeptically, "what about flying makes you so nervous?"

"It's not the flying", Alucard assured her, "it's the fact that someone else is flying. There are very few people that I trust with my personal safety, and some asshole Air Force guy who was stuck flying cargo planes full of CIA harvested poppy flowers isn't one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to listen to my very relaxing music, in order to de-stress."

He slipped on the headphones as he said so, and pushed play. Seras thought she heard something along the lines of, "Burning trees scorching land murdermurdermurdermurder", but it was hard to tell with the high-pitched screaming.

She looked quickly between her Master and Pip, noticing the stark contrast between the two. Alucard, with his skin paler than pale, looked like he didn't have a scratch on him, whereas Pip, his skin vibrant and lively, had a patch over his eye, undoubtedly because he lost it. Seras strongly doubted that he was a pirate enthusiast.

The contrast startled her, and deep thoughts rounded out in her mind.

_If immortality means that you can never be vulnerable, than does mortality guarantee vulnerability? _

She decided eventually that the answer was yes; mortal men would always be made vulnerable, by their own volition or otherwise. She, however, would not, because she could survive anything.

She cringed as a memory of Alexander Anderson throwing a bayonet at her forced its way to the forefront of her thoughts. The pain she had felt was the same she had felt the night she had been shot. If Integra hadn't swooped in to save her, she had no doubt she would be dead.

She decided to revise her ultimate finding;

I_ am vulnerable, whether I wish to be or not. But Master... _

She looked towards him again, noticing a slight grin on his face, and wondered if that grin was truly his, or a disguise.

...

Two hours into the flight, and the crew were already serving complementary snacks.

"No thank you", Alucard told the flight attendant, "I don't need your complementary peanuts. I've already got plenty of Deez Nutz."

To her credit, the flight attendant didn't cringe too hard. She didn't even ask Police Girl if she wanted any, however. She just plopped some into her lap without a word. Pip had, of course, refused, as had the rest of the Mercs. Seras simply accepted the complementary nuts with a smile. The flight attendant walked off without so much as a glance.

Seras was listening to some crap British music. Some Kanye feature or something. Alucard took off his own headphones, and stood up to use the restroom. The only person this would look strange to would be Seras, as she had not once seen him use the restroom her entire stay, but to the Mercs, it would be completely normal.

Alucard kicked past Pip, a little rougher than he had meant to, and walked down the aisle towards the crappy stalls in the back.

One of the Mercs behind his seat, the one with the more... maybe Californian accent, tapped his arm.

"Don't get raped", he said in the accent that Alucard was fairly certain was Californian.

Alucard nodded, and took his advice as sage and sound. Hell, knowing what kind of shit Mercs had to deal with domestically on the regular, he was probably serious. Alucard continued his bathroom crusade, careful not to bump into anyone. His skin was as cold as ice, and would make anyone he bumped into very uncomfortable. In fact, he could see, as someone made themselves smaller as he walked by, his very presence made people uncomfortable.

He finally made it to the bathroom, which thankfully didn't have anyone in it, and locked the door behind him. He simply stood there for a moment. Eventually, he moved towards the mirror, and put his hand on the sink, examining his own eyes through his glasses.

"I know I made a promise to you", he said to his reflection, "but she's right. This needs to be done. And... her... we need to see her. We have to, even if it means we break our promise. Even if it means-"

Suddenly, anger like he had rarely felt before came over him, and his fist snapped against the reinforced glass, shattering it with ease.

"Damnit, Alley! I'm coming home! And fuck anyone who gets in my way!"


	3. Chapter 3: Unlikely Allies

_One of the hardest things to do in a position like this is to make friends. There's the obvious aspect of everyone dying, but more than that, there are so few people that you can relate to. When you do find friends, it's almost always the most unlikely of people in the most unlikely of places. And it almost always ends with their deaths being swift, brutal, and terrible. In a way, knowing that pattern is kind of liberating; it encourages you to spill all of your secrets before it's too late. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 3: Unlikely Allies

Fortunately for Alucard, no one seemed to realize exactly who had broken the mirror, which was just as well, because he hadn't planned on paying for it anyway. When he returned to his seat, Seras was humming that stupid tune she had heard, which might have been annoying, except that he found most of the music that got big these days annoying, so he at least understood that his choices were limited.

One of the things that he didn't hate so much as he was _disappointed_ in was EDM. At his first listen, Alucard had thought of it as a kind of new-age classical, played entirely synthetically. He wasn't quite into it, but appreciated it, all the way up until someone had randomly screamed, "Watermel-O-n!", and ruined the flow.

He was shaken from his thoughts by the flight attendant asking if he wanted an in-flight meal.

"No thanks", he told her, stealing a glance at Police Girl, "I've got myself a snacc right here."

The flight attendant gave him a weird look and moved on to the next row without covering Seras.

Alucard began to notice that he was feeling tired. He wasn't surprised. He had been up for almost a week straight, and coupled with the emotional outburst he had just had... he needed his rest.

He hated trying to get it on an airplane, but if that was where it needed to happen, then he would make it happen.

He tapped Seras on the shoulder. She looked over at him, curious.

"Wake me, when you need me", he said, in a classical space-opera voice.

He slumped straight over and went to sleep, leaving Seras rather confused.

He slept fitfully, as he usually did outside of the coffin.

...

_"Vampire King." _

_"You know I don't like it when you call me that", he said, as he pushed the old man along in his wheelchair. _

_"It was a title you held, not so long ago in your lifespan." _

_"I left that I life behind", he told the old man. _

_The old man smoothed out the plaid blanket that covered his legs, and sighed. _

_"I wish my son were here." _

_"What, am I not the company you wanted to keep?" _

_Abraham Van Helsing turned around in his wheelchair to look at Alucard. _

_"You are mien friend", Abraham told him. "Of course I would wish to keep your company." _

_He still reverted to Dutch when he was trying to make a point. But whenever he was trying to make a point, he meant it. Alucard allowed a small grin. _

_"Yeah, I wish Gabriel were here too", Alucard admitted. "Your wheelchair is damn heavy. It's hard to maneuver... and here come the stairs. An extra set of hands would be splendid." _

_"I meant that he deserves this honor as much as I do." _

_"He has more than proved himself", he said before the old man could, since he said it so often. _

_And usually, when Alucard interrupted someone to make a point, he meant it, too. The old man allowed himself a gentle smile. _

_"So, we know the plan if this really does turn out to be a trap?" _

_The old man patted the blanket. _

_"Of course we do. We have been over it so many times that I'm afraid I'll say it in my sleep... if this party lasts that long." _

_"It won't." _

_"You're so certain?" _

_When he was certain of something, it was cause for concern. He had instincts like no man did; like a wild animal. He knew danger. Could practically smell it. The old man didn't take his caution lightly. _

_Alucard nodded. _

_"And... there's the stairs", Alucard said, as he did his best to angle the chair so that Abraham came down easy. _

_Abraham grunted a few times as he came down hard on his still-tender legs, but he gritted his teeth and suffered through. He had recently had a fall, and at the ripe old age of ninety, he was in no position to be hurting himself any worse. But getting Alucard to push him around everywhere was not what his doctor should have recommended. _

_After the stairs, however, they were finally at the front entrance of the mansion. The invitation, in the form of a letter, had called for every major vampire hunter in Europe to a grand feast in their honor. At the very least, there would be lots of people here, as attested to by the cars. But Alucard smelled danger, so they had come up with a plan. _

_No one would dare to attack every big-name vampire hunter in Europe head-on; that would be suicidal. What would more than likely happen was that their host would try and pick them off one by one. In that case, Abraham would stick with people, and Alucard would fake his death. Once everyone had been convinced that he was dead, he would go on the offensive, turning the game on its head. _

_It was a solid plan. One that had worked in the past. Alucard grinned. They were a great team. And great friends. They had been faithful to one another for the better part of nearly sixty years. Alucard was the Godfather to Abraham's child, Gabriel, and would provide guidance for the already well-respected and accomplished twenty-year-old in the case of Abraham's passing. _

_Speaking of Gabriel, with his great manners, why was no one there to greet them at the door? _

_Suddenly, all of his senses screamed danger. Alucard flung himself in front of the wheelchair, and kicked it back, hopefully rolling it out of harm's way. _

_The front door burst open, and a mounted machinegun opened fire on the two. Abraham flung his blanket off to reveal the revolver he had secreted there in case of emergencies. He aimed and fired it from a sitting position like he was thirty again, as Alucard was shredded by machinegun fire. _

_Alucard fell to the ground, blood pouring out of him like a river, filling the cracks in the cobblestone. _

_"Alucard", Abraham yelled, and threw himself out of his chair, crawling towards his friend. _

_Apparently, his rounds had struck home, because the machinegun stopped firing, but it didn't matter. Before he could get more than five feet from his friend, five of the unholy creatures charged from the opening, and swarmed him, dragging him into the mansion. _

_"NO", Alucard said in a furious voice that he had never heard him use. _

_Vampires swarmed the front door, trying to stem the tidal wave of power that cut bloody swaths through them, but every second they bought was a second the five needed. They threw Abraham onto a bed covered in garlic and roses, and drove a wooden stake through his heart. _

_The scream of pure unbridled rage was from not a man, but from some hell-born creature of death. The sword that cut through them was wielded by another's hand, and it devastated as if it had been made to do only such. It was Abraham's last image of the only man he could truly have called his friend. _

...

Alucard was awakened by Seras shaking him.

"Master", she whispered, "the plane is about to land!"

Pip looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep the entire time, which was just as well for Alucard. They would all be doing a round of sleeping in the hotel as soon as they were all settled anyhow. That would be their first course of action, as dictated in the field manual, which he had helped to write. Believe it or not, Alucard actually did have rules that he not only followed religiously, but also benefited others.

When the plane had finally decided to land, all of the Mercs had quickly gotten their bags, and were getting off the plane with the rest of the crowd. Next was customs, and hopefully after that, the great outdoors. Hopefully. Alucard was beginning to get skeptical of the good luck they had been having. He knew it wouldn't last.

Going straight into customs, all of the Mercs had their fake ID's and backstories down. They had all worked them out independently of one another, because, for the sake of plausible deniability, they were not a group. It's why they had spread out in the crowd.

The only ones who would be together were him and Seras. They had not rehearsed their lines at all. Alucard thought that it was going to be fun, and that it might be a sign of things to come.

The Mercs fed the customs counter dwellers their bullshit, and made it through without a hitch. Seras was about to approach the table, when Alucard subtly tapped her, holding her back. Like the dunce he was, the guy at the counter didn't even notice.

The two walked up to the counter, shoulder to shoulder, and finally the idiot decided to look up. He noted Alucard's pale complexion and eyewear, and nothing else. So easily fooled. This was too easy.

Or, at least, it would be, if Seras was even remotely okay at improvising.

"Passports, please", the man behind the counter said, "and please remove your glasses."

Alucard passed over the passports, and took off his red-tinted wraparounds. The man examined the passports, and looked back up at the two. Apparently, he was satisfied with Seras, but he scrunched up his face at Alucard.

"Sir, please remove your contacts", the man told him.

Alucard bowed forward, placing his fingers over his eyes, pretending to remove his "contacts", when in fact all he did was dim his red eyes. When he looked back up at the man, the red tinge was gone, and his brown eyes shone forth.

Seras stared in awe. She had never seen his actual eyes before. She thought that staring into them was like staring into eternity. She had never seen eyes so soft and brown before, yet so steeled and determined.

The man behind the counter nodded, and Alucard bent down again, returning red to his eyes. When he straightened back up, the menacing eyes he hid behind his glasses had returned. She thought they didn't make him look as deep as his other eyes had. She wanted his other eyes back in his head.

"Anything to claim", the man asked.

"I can beat Halo 2 on Legendary with zero deaths."

The man behind the counter glanced up at him with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Any fruits, vegetables?"

"No, I can't beat food on Legendary. Not quite there yet."

"Do you have any items on your person that you would like to claim? That maybe the dogs might sniff?"

"You have dogs? I'm allergic. Don't get them near me."

Which was entirely untrue, but was easier than saying, _I was tortured for five years straight with starving dogs chained up next to me, barking and howling and snapping at me, keeping me awake every night, causing me a lot of grief in the current day. Plus, dogs tend to bark uncontrollably around me anyway, because they smell death on me. And my natural reaction to hearing a dog bark is to wildly shoot in its direction. _

The man looked at Alucard for a moment, then spoke into his radio on the counter, saying, "Got a guy who's allergic to dogs coming through."

Alucard didn't allow himself to look relieved.

"Last time, sir", the man behind the counter said, beginning to look pissed, "do you have anything at all to claim?"

"Blatant lie wise, or item wise?"

"Item wise."

"Then no."

The man scratched something down onto paper, and then typed something into his computer terminal.

"And how about you, miss?"

"No", Seras replied gleefully, "nothing to claim from me."

The man continued typing away at his terminal. Alucard half wanted to do something funny to break the silence, but he couldn't really think of anything that would be mutually beneficial to anyone. So he sat quietly, and waited.

Even though patience was something he didn't have the patience for, Alucard knew when to bide his time. He had learned that well in the fifteenth century. And for nearly three centuries after that, he learned, through trial and error, the importance of not ramming your head into a brick wall over and over again. He believed that that had recently been redefined as "insanity". Not that he had felt particularly sane during those times anyway.

"And are you two here for business", the guy behind the counter asked, glancing up at them, "or pleasure?"

"Pleasure", Alucard told him. "It's a vacation for the two newly engaged lovers."

Seras was at least able to hide her shock for the most part, but before he could even so much as tap her, she leaned into him, saying, "Yep. Lovers."

She even put an arm around him. She was doing her absolute best. Alucard couldn't suppress a broad grin. He would make this work. He would turn this clutzy, "I don't want to be a vampire" lookin' Britfag Big Titty Police Girl-ass into the best damn apprentice he had ever had.

The customs guy tapped on his terminal a little more, and then handed their passports back. Alucard accepted them without a second thought.

"Welcome to America", the customs officer said.

As soon as they were past the booth, Seras let go of Alucard, though, he felt, more out of embarrassment than disgust, which was a nice change in pace from the past few days.

Meeting back up with everyone out in the lobby, Pip went to work right away getting a rental car. Alucard passed him the Platinum card.

"If that comes back smelling like onions and horse meat", Alucard said, "I will put a hole in your head the size of your head."

Fortunately, it did not come back smelling terrible, so Pip survived... for now. For the next hour, they had nothing to do but stand around and wait for their car to be made ready. Alucard looked around, watching the people in the lobby. Most of them were doing nothing at all, walking straight from the planes to their cars waiting outside. Others were waiting in the lobby, clearly for other people. Alucard watched a touching meeting between a young girl, and who appeared to be her lover. They ran to each other and embraced, he picking her up and spinning her around, her knocking off his Army-issued hat and locking lips with him.

Alucard looked away. He felt like he was watching something he wasn't meant to see. His only reception that had been any similar had been when he had returned to Wallachia's capital, and had been showered in whatever the people could throw to him. For some it was flowers, for others it was loaves of bread. But there had been no one there to rush out of the crowd and embrace him. At the time, it hadn't hurt. In fact, at that point in time, that was how he had wanted it. But now...

The closest he had ever come to something like that...

His reverie was broken by a large Italian family loudly screaming in Italian. They were embracing a member of the family who had obviously just come over from across the ocean. And, like most Italians, they were being as loud as possible about it. In fact, it was kind of comical.

Or at least, it was, until he looked back up the stairs, and saw a Catholic priest walking down them. He wasn't any ordinary priest, though; he wore white gloves with some chicken-scratch on them, a big, red scar across his cheek, and a blazing fire in his green eyes. And it turned into a forest fire when they caught sight of the man in red.

"ALUCARD!"

"ANDERSON", Alucard called back to him, as he watched him charge down the stairs, reaching into his coat. Alucard calmly walked towards him, reaching into his own coat.

"Why does it seem-"

"-like I just can't get rid of you?!"

"You follow me around-"

"-like a plague!"

"You and your heathenous-"

"-damned papal pedophiles-"

"-horrid abomination-"

"-good for nothing alterboy!"

Before anyone could stop them, two bayonets were against Alucard's cold skin, one at his gut, one at his throat, and two guns were muzzled straight up against Alexander, one charged straight into his gut, and the other underneath his chin. They stood, staring at each other, saliva dripping from their bared teeth, hatred roaring in their eyes. The rosary on Alexander's neck clinked as it lazily tried to find a stable position after such hasty movements. Neither party moved. If someone had walked in right then, they might have mistaken it for a modern art statue, signifying some great struggle or other.

Pip had tried to get a cigarette ready for when they could go outside, and now it fell to the floor, far from his wide-open mouth. The American Mercs looked on with mouths agape, unable to do anything remotely close to interfering. Seras had tears brimming in her eyes; so many emotions were flowing through her. Worry for her master, hatred for Anderson, horror that they were really going to do this in the middle of a crowded lobby, and that this time, she didn't have a good distraction planned up to separate the two.

Everyone around them looked on in horrid silence, no one daring to break the incredibly tense situation and make it any worse than it was.

Alucard wasn't sure who the laughter had started bubbling from first. Perhaps it had begun surfacing from them both at the same time. But either way, the weapons started coming down, and the laughter started coming forth. Anderson threw his head back, bellowing laughter, and Alucard was doubled over, laughing his guts out.

Eventually, Alucard slapped Anderson on the shoulder with one of his massive .454's, and said, "We-hehehe-we can't keep this-hoohoohoo-charade going any-haha-longer!"

"No, I-haha-suppose we-hehehe-bloody well can't!"

The two disregarded their weapons for a brotastic embrace, one filled with laughter, and happiness. When they pulled apart from one another, they were still laughing.

"It's all right", Alucard called out to the crowd, "all fake! Just a thing we like to do!"

"True! These keychain ornaments are duller than Thatcher", Alexander chimed in, "and those guns are faker than all of Hollywood!"

"Indeed, indeed", Alucard said, still laughing.

Nevertheless, two airport security, armed with rifles and body armor, pushed through the crowd towards them.

"Excuse me, sir", one of the guards said, standing in front of Alexander's escape, "you and your friend are going to have to come with us."

"I don't think so", Anderson explained to them. "See, I'm here on official Vatican business, which means it would be a swell idea for _you_ to mind your _own_ business."

The two guards took the hint and left. No one fucked with the Vatican. Not even TSA.

"Whoo", Alucard said, replacing his guns to his coat as Alexander's bayonets retracted into his arm holsters. "Nice little 'get out of jail free' card ya got there."

"Thanks", Alexander said with a lopsided grin, "I made it myself."

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Seras had apparently regained the ability to speak. Alucard chuckled, wrapping an arm around Alexander's broad shoulders.

"Well, you see, Apprentice", Alucard explained, "me and Anderson got to talkin' after our first encounter, and then we _really_ got to talkin' after you stopped us the second time. Turns out, we have a lot in common!"

"Like bloody what?!"

"Well, for instance", Alexander took over, "we both really hate secret societies!"

"Kinda strange considering we both work for secret societies, I know", Alucard added.

"Well, as secret as we make 'em, anywho- ow", Alexander shot Alucard a glance as he pinched him.

Apparently, Alucard wasn't ready to have this talk with his apprentice yet. Alexander made a mental note of that.

Seras was shaking her head, pulling on her hair with her hands.

"I'm sorry, this is just all really hard to get straight", Seras admitted. "Last time the two of you were together, you practically hated each other! Tried to _kill _one another if I remember correctly!"

"What", Alexander said, producing a frown and even scrunching up his ace, "you thought I was gonna be angry? Thought I was gonna shoot myself up with heroine and beat the shit out of ol' boy here? Fookin' racist."

"Yeah, ya racist", Alucard condescended.

"I'm confused", Pip said as well. "Who's mad at who?"

"Well, excuse me if I'm inclined to believe that patterns exist", Seras said in frustration. "Does this mean you won't be killin' each other no more?"

"Oh, no", Anderson said with a chuckle and a wave of the hand, as if it were obvious. "Quite the opposite, in fact; we're gonna be tryin' even harder to kill one another, now that we're united in the common goal of wanting to end the other's life!"

"What the bloody hell", Seras practically screamed in a high-pitched, incredibly exacerbated voice.

"However", Alucard informed her, "America is a neutral zone between Protestants and Catholics. At least, the _trained_ ones. So, while we're here, no, we won't be killing each other."

"Ah, speakin' of getting' killed", Anderson said, looking at his Vatican-issued Gucci pocket watch, "my driver should be here any moment! Catch ya later, ya monstrous heathen! Toodaloo!"

"You too, you Catholic sociopath! Toodles!"

Alexander walked away calmly, out into the offloading section, where a car had just jumped the sidewalk. He opened the door, and casually got into the passenger's seat. As soon as the door shut, the car's tires shrieked, and it shot off to who knew where.

"I'm still confused", Pip admitted.

"If we're not in America", Seras told Pip quietly, "shoot that bastard!"

At least she was catching on. Pip nodded. The rest of the Mercs gave similar nods. Apparently, Pip was speaking for the whole group. That kind of subtle group communication usually took years of training alongside each other to achieve. Alucard was beginning to understand... no, not understand, but at least respect... why Integra had selected his firm at all. She could've just said, "Fuck it! Alucard stays home full time", but instead, she had seen something in these Mercs that Alucard apparently hadn't.

She wasn't entirely correct, however.

"No one touches Anderson", Alucard corrected. "He's mine."

Seras looked questioningly at her master, as did the rest of the Mercs. Alucard was going to have to answer questions he really didn't want to. He sighed, and prepared to tell them all of his dark little secrets.

Right then, Pip's phone chimed, and he pulled it out, quickly glancing at it.

"Our car's ready", Pip said.

Alucard's grin widened. Saved by the bell.

"Shotgun", he called, dashing away towards the rental place.

The Mercs, Seras included, groaned, and followed.


	4. Chapter 3 nahalf: Pootis McTootis

Chapter 3.5: Pootis McTootis give you the Scoopsis

Pootis McTootis pulled back his coattails, sitting down in his Laz-E-Ass chair. He made sure his fisticuffs were buttoned, and straightened his top hat, looking directly at the audience. He straightened out his pants slowly, and sensually, and then said, "Good evening."

His monocle picked that exact moment to fall off his face.

"Well, fuck me, I guess."

He resituated, and tried again, this time remembering to reach over to his little stand next to his chair, and clicking the button to turn on the automatic incinerator that he also used as a fireplace on behind him. Screams began sounding from up the chimney, but he paid them no mind.

"Good evening folks, and welcome to the story", he began, straightening out the expensive-ass shirt he had on, and fluffing out the fluffy thing that was on the front of his neck. "I understand you may be confused right about now... by Jove, you may have been confused from the very beginning. Most of my stories are bland, meaningless fluff stories written for the sole purpose of making middle-schoolers giggle to themselves so that their teachers will take their phones away in class. And now, all of the sudden, this asshole is just going to make a semi-serious story about Vlad the Impaler? Is this kid on crack?"

He put his crackpipe up to his mouth, lighting it with the lighter from underneath, and took a big puff on it.

"And furthermore, it's boring as fuck. Nothing's happening right now. Well I, reader, have read your mind, and understand that you have concerns, questions, even comments. I would encourage you to write those out in a review or comment section or whatever this dumbass website has for that. As for this story being boring..."

He picked up his TV remote, and turned on the hit Ugandan action movie, _Who Killed Captain Alex_. The announcer announced, "Action is coming! I promise you!"

"Yes, people will die in the next chapter. And furthermore, very interesting context will be added in from the life of a very interesting man who neither gets credit where it's due nor gets his story told right."

He pulled a marshmallow stick out of his back pocket, roasting the marshmallow over the incinerator, which the screams had stopped coming from. The thing caught fire instantly, and he brought it back to his mouth, eating it whole, flames and all.

With his mouth still full, he continued, "I apologize for the infrequent uploads, and thought that it was obligatory to come up with an excuse, so here goes; over the past decade, I have been in and out of various care-now centers. The doctors say that it's because I, 'do too much cocaine', and, 'need to stop', because I'm, 'constantly overdosing', and it's, 'bad for my liver'. Well, Dr. Oz, this one's for you."

He leaned over the little stand, and did a line straight off of it. His pencil moustache was turned white momentarily.

"To wrap this all up, I would encourage you to write to me. Question my intelligence. Call me a faggot in the comment section or whatever. It means the world to me, and furthermore, it helps me gauge my audience, and how they view my content, what I can improve on, etcetera. So, do it."

Pootis McTootis stood from the chair, and straightened out his coat, only for his eyes to roll into the back of his skull, and he fell to the ground yet again. The TV turned to a group of middle-aged men slow clapping. Everyone went to bed.

The end.

Of this clusterfuck.

Now back to the previously scheduled bullshit.


	5. Chapter 4: Hotel Philidelphia

_People seem to be under the impression that since weapons have changed dramatically, warfare, too, has changed dramatically. I would argue the exact opposite; it looks different, sure, but that's because it's more spread out. Other than that, it's basically all the same. To illustrate this, I'll break down the three main weapons of personal medieval combat; the bow, which has been replaced by the long-range rifle, the sword, which had been replaced by the mid-range rifle, or the inaccurately dubbed, "assault rifle", and the dagger, which has been replaced by the handgun. Whenever a dagger was pulled, it indicated the closest combat achievable; it also meant that someone was not going to walk away from this particular battle, but furthermore, it indicated that the battle had become completely, and totally, personal. That's why I take handguns over a wide variety of modern weapons; for me, eliminating the occult, eliminating the terror-bringers, eliminating the paranormal, it's personal. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 4: Hotel Philidelphia

The ride to their destination saw Pip driving the whole time, with Alucard riding next to him, Seras riding behind Alucard, and all of the Mercs riding haphazardly in the back. Throughout the ride, Alucard was more than happy to keep the situation silent and awkward. Even though he wanted to keep his charges alive... for the most part... he still had no plans to become attached to them. It was just like he told Pip.

_You're not my friend, you're my bodyguard. Survive two weeks, and I might learn your name. Until then, you're spare blood._

Which was entirely true, as far as Alucard was concerned. He still thought of their survival as a nice plus, but also entirely unnecessary towards the ultimate goals of the mission.

That being said, he became bored about thirty minutes into the drive.

"Y'all mind if I put in some jams", Alucard asked.

Before anyone could respond, Alucard slammed a CD into the rack of their rental. From the rear-view window, and his peripherals, he could see everyone's reactions. Pip shot him a questioning glance, and Seras covered her ears. All of the other Mercs looked on in anticipation.

_She take my mon-ey... when I'm in neeeeeeed..._

"Hold on", the Californian said from the back, "is this Kanye?"

"Better", Alucard told him, "it's _classic _Kanye."

Even the southerner looked impressed. Before long, they were jamming out, the Mercs able to follow along as well as Alucard was. Seras continued to look uncomfortable, almost like she had never heard good music in her life.

"What else ya got", the southerner asked from the back.

"Avenged Sevenfold", Alucard answered, producing another CD. "By the way, have any of you ever heard of Iron Maiden?"

Suddenly, their ride became a lot less like a funeral procession, and a lot more like new dudes bonding over ripping rifts and lashing lyrics. In an instant, they had gone from distant professionals to acquaintances. Even the guy he had previously noted as nervous around him was beginning to lighten up, swaying from side to side with the beat. Hopefully, Alucard felt, this would do far more than just make the Mercs feel "good" around him. If they felt like they connected with him, even on a superficial level, it might make them more inclined to trust his judgement. And if they trusted his judgement, they might also be more inclined to get behind him when he inevitably said, "Get behind me".

He was about to throw in his Rare Jams when Pip shouted, "We're here."

Instantly the atmosphere changed. The men went from boisterous to serious once more, checking their reassembled pistols, secreting them away, and putting on their gloves and sunglasses. They were prepared for anything, even in an area that had been deemed their "fallback". It was equally sobering, and hilarious.

As they all exited the vehicle in front of the rather fancy-looking hotel, Alucard felt someone tug on his shoulder. He glanced down to see Seras at his side, nudging him away. Alucard glanced up at the Mercs.

"Scope out the lobby real quick, fellas", he told them. "Make sure we aren't being watched."

They all silently did as they were told. Alucard returned to his Apprentice, who had a questioning look in her eyes. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why are they putting on gloves and sunshades", Seras asked. "Are they all wanted men? Are they trying to hide from the law?"

"Maybe", Alucard told her honestly, "but that's not why they're dressed like that. You haven't been around Mercs enough to hear their horror stories. They're trying to keep bodily fluids from getting on them."

"Bodily fluids", Seras said, with shock in her voice. "Like blood?"

"Like semen", Alucard corrected. "You don't hire Mercs for beach vacations."

"Yuck", Seras said with a disgusted look, and walked towards the hotel interior.

Alucard straightened his tie and walked in after her. At the door, he examined his surroundings. A rather fancy hotel, even for Integra's taste. Big arches, lots of lighting, elevators encased in glass, and taller than the twin towers... before he had drunkenly rammed a plane into them. He had a bad habit of that, it seemed. At least that one hadn't been entirely his fault, but he had kicked off a huge false flag way too early, long before it was supposed to have been implemented, leading to a lot of loose ends, and a lot of shit from the American government. He normally responded to their chastising with, "Whatever, pigs; go fuck your cousins or something".

Clearly, Integra was being nice this time around. Though, Alucard didn't necessarily see that as a good sign. Back in Wallachia, if an elder were close to death, it was the job of others to make them as comfortable as possible for a smooth transition to the afterlife.

Alucard got the feeling that it was more like this.

He walked straight up to the receptionist, a young man with acne on his face and long hair down his back, and said, "Sup?"

"Hello, sir", the receptionist said with a slight waver in his voice, probably hormonal. "Do you have a reservation here?"

"If I did, it would be under..."

For a moment, Alucard had to strain his brain. He typically had a different surname for every hemisphere, and it had been a long time since he had been to this one. He had to think hard to remember the joke. What was it, a snake continually eating itself must inevitably eats lots of shit?

"Alucard", he finally decided, "Delliki."

The receptionist tapped at the keyboard for some time, and eventually said, "Ah! Here you are, sir! The two penthouse suites are reserved for you at the top floor. When you get in the elevator, just press the button that says, 'PH'. Here's your keys", the boy said, pushing seven room keys across the desk, "and if you need room service, you can call my desk at any time!"

"Are there TV's in those suites", Alucard questioned.

"Of course, sir", the receptionist replied professionally, once again with a slight waver.

"Do they have... Netflix?"

"I... don't think so, sir."

"Tell you what", Alucard told the receptionist, passing the black card across the counter towards him, "put in a few requests for me here and there, never, ever talk about us or what we're doing, and when we leave, you can give yourself a... uh... twenty-five percent tip."

"TWENTY-FIVE-"

"Hey, remember what I just said? Keep your voice down."

"I... will ensure that your visit is discrete and as pointedly to your liking as I can, sir", the receptionist answered smartly.

"Good", Alucard responded. "Have a nice night!"

"You too, sir", the receptionist replied, smiling ear to ear. "And enjoy your stay!"

"The sentiment is appreciated", Alucard said, turning to walk away. "But I don't think I will."

...

The room was large and spacious. Comfortable beds, two per room, with a large TV, a mini fridge, a microwave, ironing board, closet, two couches and even a large bathroom with a large bath. Alucard felt a little pampered. No matter how long it had been since... since Turkey, he could never get used to having nice things.

It was why he usually slept in a dark, dank basement.

The Mercs were dividing rotating shifts sleeping on the beds and couches before they had even made it up to the room, so all that was left was to tell Pip that he wasn't going to be sleeping in Alucard's room.

"I didn't really want to anyway", Pip admitted nonchalantly.

"You, however", Alucard said to Seras, "I will be sharing a room with you."

She was caught a bit off guard by the way he had said it, though he could tell that she was ready for him to say something along those lines, when she almost immediately responded with, "As long as I don't have to share a bloody bed with you."

That produced a few snickers from the Mercs. Alucard shrugged.

"Just don't come crawling into mine if you start having bad dreams", he told her devilishly.

This produced a shocked expression and a blush from Seras, and more snickering from the Mercs.

"W-wouldn't dream of it", she responded, trying to hold herself together.

"Oh, so you've been dreaming of me", Alucard prodded, a grin stretching across his face, revealing his predatory teeth. "Tell me, am I wearing the red pajamas or the blue ones?"

"Bloody hell", Seras cursed, throwing up her hands in defeat.

The Mercs were full-blown laughing now. Seras, with blush in her cheeks, stormed into the room and shut the door behind her. Everyone was still chuckling when Alucard walked right up to Pip.

"Hey, I sent you a link, go ahead and download the thing on the site."

Pip raised the eyebrow over his eyepatch, asking, "Virus, or porn?"

"Both, if you're lucky", Alucard replied. "We've got to keep tabs on a specific target, and my phone can't keep up, so you're it. If we get a hit, let me know immediately."

"Will do", Pip responded, and turned towards the other Mercs, motioning towards the other room.

What Alucard had given to Pip was an app that would track credit card usage. Whoever had sired this homo was smart enough to not cancel his cards when the thing stole them. Now, finding it would hopefully be a breeze. All they technically had to do was wait for him to use a card, and then dogpile like he had the last ketchup packet in the lunch line.

Alucard stretched for a moment, and went down the hall towards the nearest window. He looked out upon the big city, bustling with activity, and wondered how many people were doing the same. He had lived in cities for most of his death, and he understood the charm of them. But for most of his life, he lived in a city that was so small it felt like a town, where everyone knew everyone, and everyone helped everyone. Here, with the additional opportunity, it seemed that most people wanted to go about their lives simply focusing on themselves. He understood the benefits that that carried for the particular job he did, but simultaneously, he missed having people around who knew him, even distantly.

With a start, he realized that no one in his small town had known him. That when he was struggling the hardest, he had no shoulder to lean on, save his own brother, but he had to step up and be the example for his younger brother, so he truly had no helping hands. And with that line of thinking, it wasn't hard to understand why his Faith had been so strong.

Many knew of him, but few truly knew his story; for most of his life, he had been a man of God, cursing the invaders in secret, seeking the Bible for guidance, and praying to Jesus to save his soul and guide his way. For most of his life, that was how he had lived. Ten years of brutal torture, horrific atrocities, the most terrible of betrayals had never once swayed him from his path. He had been a good follower, and he had done everything God had asked of him.

So why had God abandoned him?

He knew, ultimately, that it was his own fault. He had learned over his span of existence that bad things almost always happened to you because you brought them on yourself. Most of his worst memories and moments, he could trace back to a decision that had seemed insignificant, harmless, or even a decision that he had known would end badly and had done it anyway, out of some perceived necessity.

But for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why God hated him.

He shook himself from his thoughts, and glanced up at the moon.

_Shit_, he realized, seeing it had changed its position in the sky,_ it's been a while_.

He strolled back down to his room, threw his key into the slot, and flung the door open.

A shriek and a blinding flurry of Police Girl attempting to pull clothes on over her underwear was the image that greeted him. She yanked her pants up quick as a wink, and then tried to pull her shirt down over her head. Every time she thought she got it, it got stuck on her massive cans. She glared angrily at Alucard as she poked her head out of the shirt.

"Well, you don't have to bloody stare at me!"

"What", Alucard said with a shrug. "It's not like I'm gonna do anything. We're on business. If I was gonna do anything to you, I'd get you home before I got you penetrated."

Seras shrieked, and shot off towards the bathroom. Alucard chuckled, and moved to sit down on one of the couches. He crossed his leg over the other, and thrummed his fingers on the edge of the sofa. He directed his thoughts towards the somewhat ditzy character that he had accidentally shot straight into his life, quite literally. At the time, siring had seemed to be the only way to save her, but now...

No. It had been there since the zero hour. That spark in her eyes. That determination. He had seen it then, and he had not made a mistake in capitalizing on it. It had been an old military habit, but it was rarely one that steered him wrong.

What had been a spartan mistake was his lack of hands-on with her, and not the fun kind. He had done almost nothing in the means of directing her through this new life... death... thinking that that spark and determination would guide her, as it had himself, initially. But she was resisting the urge to change. He had seen it personally, seen her reject the opportunity to feed, even seen her reject a harmless iced-over blood bag. She wanted to maintain her humanity, no matter the cost, and it was costing her dearly, more than she realized.

The ditzyness was, more than likely, an extension of this, but he had seen more than one person with a case of the ditzies who did their absolute best to make it through life and simply couldn't. This was not the case; he had seen her overcome plenty of obstacles before, and it was hardly any different from one case to another... until she felt her humanity was threatened, or until she seemed like she could really excel. It seemed like she was sabotaging herself.

The humanity thing he could totally understand. It sucked for him as well, and even though he had taken that step quickly, even though his own change had been entirely against his will, he had seen others who had changed willingly that had taken longer to embrace their new nature than he had. Case in point, Seras.

The thing that really bothered him was that he got a sense of self-defeatism from her. It was a shame for several reasons; he had personally experienced self-defeatism, and when he saw how it had affected everyone around him, he had overcome it quickly. Seras had no one whom she was truly "failing" in any real sense, save herself. And the saddest part of all; he knew, he knew she had it in her to be the next greatest hero of time, the next Lauri Torini, the next King Arthur, the next Vlad the Impaler... but she didn't want that for herself. And to him, it was infuriating, because it had to be his own fault, he had to be failing as a teacher.

After World War One, whilst getting lit as fuck with Zhang Zongchang, he had, in an opium haze that he still couldn't quite remember everything from, picked up a copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu, and after reading through it five separate times in as many weeks, he couldn't have agreed more with everything in it. One thing that had really struck him was the rule about teachers and students;_ when teaching, the first time a student makes a mistake, it is the error of the teacher._ In a way, since he had not stepped in to properly guide her, every mistake she had made had been her "first". He was determined, right now, to begin breaking that cycle with some well-meant guidance. And, failing that, get to the bottom of why she was failing.

Finally, the bathroom door opened, and Seras walked out, fully clothed in a Helsing uniform that bulged... a lot... in the chest. Alucard patted the seat next to him. In response, Seras wrinkled her nose.

"Seriously", Alucard told her, "we need to talk."

She hesitated for a noticeable second, and then cautiously made her way to the seat next to him. She sat down gently, her legs tensed, like he might try and eat her or something. Silly Seras. Ah! That would have been a good nickname if she didn't have big titties.

As he made a mental note of this, he realized that there had been an uncomfortable silence for some time, and that she was now staring at him.

"Seras", he began, just to show how serious he was about this, "I'm concerned about you."

"Concerned", she asked, curiosity, and that horrible stench of self-defeat coming over her. "Why?"

"You're failing in the most basic of ways as a vampire", Alucard informed her, "and, by extension, as a vampire hunter."

She looked downtrodden by this new information.

"Which is, completely and totally, my fault."

"Y-your fault", Seras repeated, stunned. "N-no! I-it's not your fault!"

"I'm your teacher", Alucard said, "and I haven't even been teaching you like I should be. Clearly, your failure is an extension of my own."

"No! That's not true! I'm just... I-"

"Have no guidance, I get it."

"What? No!"

"So, then, is someone training you on the side?"

"Yes! I mean no, but-"

"Precisely! Which is why I've resolved to be more hands-on from here on out."

"I, um-"

"And I will of course start by giving you my personal professional pointers and tips, one by one, all eight hundred of them."

"..."

"Excellent! You may want a pen and paper for this. They're important."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, and then the hamster wheel began turning, and she jumped up, diving into her bag for a pen and pad, which she hurriedly raced back towards the couch with. Alucard was about to comment on the oddity of her actually having a pen and pad... he had planned to give her the one he used for scribbling impromptu death threats against the pope... when she opened it up and began flipping to a blank page.

"Hold on" Alucard said, observing the stencil work on the filled pages, "you draw?"

"I, um... yes, but-"

"Let me see."

"N-no, it's not that good-"

"Seriously, I won't eat it."

"I... I don't really like showing other people my drawings."

"That's fair. I respect that."

She continued flipping, keeping her body angled so that he couldn't see most of it. A few of the drawings were colored in, and he caught one with a lot of red on it. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but it looked like the character had red tinted glasses, a badass red hat, and big, sharp teeth. At the bottom of that one, he could make out a small paragraph, but didn't have time to read it before the page had flipped.

She finally found herself a blank page, and looked up at him expectantly.

"Alright", Alucard told her, "rule number one: History. Learn it."

Seras looked a bit confused.

"Which part of it?"

"All of it. Anything that can give you an edge, especially certain people who had a... well, certain sway on things."

"...alright."

She scratched_ study history_ into her notepad, and then looked back up at him.

"Later, when we have more time, I will expand on all of these tips and pointers, so be sure to keep them in mind as a general statement before you draw your own conclusions. Now for the good stuff. Number two: don't ever fuck with Integra. Especially if you don't know her like that. Or if you're expendable."

She scratched_ don't mess with Sir Integra_ in her notepad, and then looked back up at him.

"Is she really that ruthless?"

Alucard leaned back a little.

"You have to understand", he told her. "First of all, this girl watched her own father die at the impressionable age of twelve. She has been running his company, a four-generation long family inheritance, all by herself, and furthermore, I personally taught her not just how to swordfight, but also how to never take shit from anyone."

Seras' eyes widened.

"_You_ taught her how to swordfight?"

"Of course", Alucard said. "Other than wealth, a huge company, a bunch of military-grade hardware, a bastard uncle who wanted to kill her, and a butler, the only thing that Integra inherited from her father was_ me_."

Seras looked like she wanted to hear the rest of that story.

"Rule number three", Alucard continued, "never ever _ever _fuck with Walter."

Seras looked a little disappointed, but scratched down_ don't anger Walter_ all the same. She glanced back up at him.

"Walter really does need a little backstory", Alucard explained. "I actually fought the Nazi's with Walter back in WWII. Back then, he was a fifteen-year-old aspiring vampire hunter, only, instead of whacking his friends with sticks, like most aspiring fifteen-year-old vampire hunters did back then, Walter began inventing a weapon to dispose of vampires quickly and effectively; his micro-filament wires. At the time, it was genius, and it's still incredibly effective today."

"Unfortunately, he had trouble using it to its maximum potential, and I just so happened to be the very definition of maximum potential. Someone had the bright idea of partnering us up, and we kicked Nazi vampire ass the entire war. Walter was credited with hundreds of kills without my guidance, and thousands when we worked together. He also fell in love with me, but that's another story."

"Fell in-"

"Rule number four."

Right then, there was a knock at the door. Alucard stood up, withdrawing one of his .454's, and walked up to the door, slowly drawing it open. On the other side was Pip, dressed up for clandestine operations.

"We got a hit", the Frenchman said, "and I've got a feeling that it's going to be difficult to make this one work."

"Explain."

"No time. I'll explain on the way."

With that, Pip turned and walked towards the lobby. Alucard turned back towards Seras.

"WHOOO", he screamed, "IT'S SHOWTIME! WHOOO!"

...

"The target swiped a card in a local shop", Pip explained, handing Alucard his company-mandated smartphone. "Apparently he was feeling a bit hungry."

"Not a bit", Alucard noted, "this guy is buying non-perishables._ Lots_ of non-perishables. Also, nice smartphone. I keep breaking mine. Integra only trusts me with flip phones."

"Fortunately, he's in an place with several different types of markets all clustered into one area, like a French carnival, so more than likely, he's going to stick around and purchase what he needs for a grand disappearing act", Pip explained. "Unfortunately, that also means he's going to be around people, which means this whole operation just became a lot more difficult."

"I thought Mercenaries did lots of kidnappings in broad daylight", Seras said out loud.

The Mercs all shared confused glances, and then returned their gazes to her.

"I mean", she began to elaborate, "returning rich girls to their parents and whatnot."

"Most of those rich girls go to exclusive sex clubs", Alucard explained. "It's a lot easier to ghetto blast someone in the face in an environment where no one is willing to talk about their day to anyone outside of that area."

"Out in a market, however", Pip pipped up, "there will be plenty of people who may find it just a little bit odd if they see people dragging someone into a car against their will."

And there were even more people who might find it a little bit odd if they just walked up to someone and shot them in the face, but Alucard didn't think he really needed to elaborate there.

"So, then", Seras asked, "what are our options?"

"Generally", Alucard told her, "I'd say we tail him. But I'm feeling audacious. Let's talk to him."

Pip turned around in the driver's seat, just to look at him.

"That was not in any way what we were tasked to do."

"Look at me", Alucard told him.

Pip nodded.

"Look into my eyes", Alucard told him again.

Pip stared intently into his eyes.

"Look at me staring intently into your eyes."

Pip obliged.

"You're not watching the road fuckwit."

Pip turned his head in time to see that they had swerved into oncoming traffic, and cranked the wheel just in time to avoid a head-on collision. Pip released a tidal wave of curses in French.

"That's why_ I'm_ leading the op", Alucard told him. "_I'm_ the one who answers to Integra, so_ I_ will decide how we are to carry out our missions. Clear?"

Pip stewed for exactly a half a second, and then responded, "Crystal."

"I will approach him in a friendly and open-minded manner. I will do the talking, and if anyone interrupts me, I will clean your colon out with a .454. Anyone unclear?"

There were no objections. Alucard grinned.

"Then let's do this."

...

It didn't take long to find the homunculus. In fact, it was a stroke of good luck that he happened to turn and look in their direction. His red eyes and white hair gave him away almost immediately.

Not all homunculi looked like they had stared in an emo girl's wet dreams last night, but if they were rushed in their production, they almost always ended up like such. In fact, if the rituals and procedures were performed correctly, homunculi could end up being more akin to a clone of the sire, or an empty, soulless servant. Most of them were created for menial tasks better suited for the lower class, but the elite, wishing to deny even the smallest reprieves for the people they made poor, would rather use black magic to create what were essentially clones to do it for them instead.

Every once in a while, Alucard came across homunculi that were especially created for certain tasks, such as performing hit jobs. Those usually had above-average intelligence in their field, but were otherwise single-minded. They were quite dangerous to face, if you weren't practically immortal.

This one seemed to be different. He was constantly looking around, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows and gun him down. Paranoia wasn't ingrained into the homunculi he had visited death upon previously.

Once again, this one seemed rushed in most areas, especially in his appearance, but he had a highly developed emotional baseline. Of all the reasons Alucard could rack his brain as to why that would be, the one he kept returning to that seemed most likely... one that he had encountered before... was that whoever had developed him had done so simply so they could torture him, feeding off of his suffering.

It didn't make much sense to Alucard why people would go through the trouble of creating anything just to torture or kill it on a whim. He often found pleasure in torturing rivals, but he hadn't wasted his energies turning them into his rivals in the first place. It simply didn't make any sense to do all of that work only to throw it away when you felt like running something through.

But he had seen homunculi used like this before, and patterns tended to remain consistent with the crowds he ran against. If these people wanted to go out and kidnap strangers to torture, they could, and often did, unchallenged. But to go through the trouble of making something just to break it? Alucard couldn't understand that thought process in simple terms.

These people were just sadistic.

Nevertheless, he had a job, and he was going to do it. He hated most everything paranormal... for personal reasons. He hated getting spooked.

So, the homunculus was going to die, but before he died, he would tell Alucard everything he knew about who sired him. He would have his revenge.

He opened up the car door, and stepped out, straightening his coat. He turned towards the sidewalk the homunculus was walking on, and walked calmly in that direction. The homunculus was walking towards him, so as long as he kept up his current pace, he would run straight into him. He crossed the street, and stepped straight up onto the sidewalk. The homunculus looked directly at him, and then looked away, never questioning him for a moment. Being as flashy as Alucard was, people rarely suspected him of ill intent. Unless, of course, he started to come closer.

And as the homunculus began to approach him, he looked him over again, and began to slow his pace. His eyes began to flash with panic, and Alucard decided that it was now or never.

He began taking long strides, being sure to keep his big grin on his face. People had a hard time believing that you were coming to kill them if you were grinning at them. For this particular homo, it didn't seem to have much of a relaxing effect. He turned around, first walking in the opposite direction.

Alucard decided that if he was going to stop him, he would have to speak up.

"My friend", Alucard shouted, "didn't you see me?"

The homunculus stopped in his tracks. He knew as much as Alucard did what was about to happen, and if the predators were already on his trail, they would find him again. Better that he face Alucard here, in public, so that his death would at least be quick.

Alucard closed the distance, and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Buddy, turn around for a moment."

The homunculus turned towards him, his red eyes glaring in defiance.

"If you're gonna kill me", the homunculus said, "just do it."

"Good language skills", Alucard complemented. "Someone did a good job making you."

"Yeah", the homunculus said, stopping the conversation.

Alucard drew in a breath.

"Look", Alucard told him, "I could drop hints all day, but I'm just going to tell you straight up that I'm trying to give you what no assassin ever would. Tell me who sired you, and you'll have your revenge."

"What's the point", the homunculus said, "I'll still be dead."

"You shouldn't have even been alive", Alucard deadpanned. "Look, you can either die like a virgin Eugene dickwad, or you can die knowing that the asshole who did this to you dies too."

The homunculus thought about that for a moment, and drew in a breath.

"Is there any situation where I survive?"

"Nope."

"...Well then..."

Seras kept her gaze on the two men, wondering what they were discussing. She tried really hard to read the homunculus' lips, but he was a little far away, and she wasn't all that good at reading lips. Pip, who sat in front of her in the passenger seat, kept his one good eye on the two people, never moving his head.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see the southerner, who also had his eyes on the two men.

"So, where's the homunculus", the southerner.

"The one with the hoodie", she told him.

"Where?"

"Um... right in front of us?"

"Is he invisible?"

"...no..."

"I can't see him."

"Alucard is talking to him."

From the back of the SUV, she could her a window being rolled down, and an accent she had never heard before began talking, saying, "No habla Taiwanese", but she didn't take her eyes off of Alucard and the homunculus.

"He must be smaller than I thought", the southerner postulated.

"How do you figure?"

"I figured he would have a hard time fitting into a hoodie."

From the back came the sounds of, "No, no, I don't have any money", and then someone began speaking in a language she couldn't understand.

"Why would you figure that?"

"Aren't homunculus' just giant slugs?"

"...No?"

"Then what's a homunculus?"

From the back again, "Hey, hey, hey, let go of me!" and then the door opened, and the sound of someone hitting the ground. Seras continued to watch Alucard.

"It's basically a black magic clone of someone", she explained. "At least, that's how Master explained it to me."

"Oh", the southerner said. "I guess that makes more sense."

In the background, someone shouted, "No! No!" and then a gunshot rang out.

Alucard turned his head to the sound, and the homunculus took this time to tuck tail and run. He sprinted for the nearest alley, just as Alucard turned his head back towards him.

"Hey! Get back here", Alucard shouted, charging after him.

The chase led them out of the public eye, and Alucard knew he had to attack him now. He could shoot him, which would be covered by the other gunshot, but people were attracted by gunshots, and he didn't want people all around him. He still had evidence to get rid of.

He reached towards his belt, and grasped the handle of his Magyar sword, pulling it out of the dimensional rift he kept it in around his left-side waist. He quickly closed the distance, and pulled out his sword, slashing upwards. Blood splashed the wall to his right, and a deep gash appeared in his back. He fell onto his face, blood soaking into his hoodie, and already beginning to pool around him.

Alucard leaned in close, examining the damage. The gash was deep indeed, slicing through ribs and severing his spine, opening up veins that were close to his arteries.

He didn't have long.

Alucard knelt down beside him, saying, "Finish what you were telling me, and I swear to you, your sire won't ever do anything like this again."

The homunculus chuckled, the act pushing blood out of his wound.

"What could you possibly hope to do against them?"

"Simple", Alucard told him, sheathing his sword. "Either they comply, or they die."

The homunculus turned his head to look at him.

"Do you have that power?"

"Of course", Alucard told him. "Now, tell me everything."

...

Pip was doing his best to shoo away the lady-boys that had shot his man, but it already wasn't looking good for him. A chest cavity shot, easily fatal, and the man wasn't moving. A closer inspection revealed he wasn't breathing either.

Their first casualty had been because of a botched mugging by a group of Taiwanese traps.

This mission was already chocking up to be the clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks, and as far as he knew, they hadn't even eliminated their first target yet.

Everyone else was already piled out. When Seras saw the man lying on the ground, she put her hands over her mouth. The Californian put his hands behind his head. The soft-spoken mid-westerner put his hands on his hips, angrily shaking his head, and the southerner took his hat off, slapping it down on the ground with an angry thump.

Around that time, Alucard showed up. He looked at the man lying on the ground. Then he turned back to Pip.

"What in the absolute fuck happened here?"

"Thai lady-boys", Pip told him.

Alucard nodded, as if those three words cleared up everything. He turned around, and said to the group, "What's the moral of the story here?"

"Never trust strange lady-boys", the southerner said.

"Good job, uh... funny, but I don't recall getting your name."

Right then, police sirens began blaring.

"Cops a-comin'", Alucard declared, "which means we're a-leavin'. Pack up, let's jet."

Everyone jumped back into the SUV, and Alucard hurriedly got into the driver's seat. He put the car in reverse, then put it in drive, and then drove like crazy for the next three hours, zipping, zooming, and going around in circles to lose the cops. When it was clear that they weren't being followed, Alucard turned around to go back to their hotel once again.

Pulling back up to the hotel, the men immediately piled out, their eyes scanning the world around them, watching for potential threats. Perhaps they were thinking, _geez, you drop your guard for one second_... Alucard was just wondering how nobody noticed a flock of Taiwanese traps pulling a man out of the car they were all sitting in.

Nevertheless, as they trudged through the lobby, with defeat in their figures, the guy at the desk with the acne waved Alucard over. Alucard walked up at a brisk pace, and leaned on the counter, laying his elbow across it.

"I got your TV's hooked up, sir", the kid said with a smile. "Netflix is yours."

"Thanks, buddy", Alucard told him. He tapped the counter twice, saying, "Tell you what. On top of that 25% tip, I'll give you a favor. Anything you need, one time."

"Woah, really", the kid asked, his eyes wide. Apparently, he had caught on that Alucard was the kind of guy who could make things like that happen. He remained quiet for a moment, and then said, "Let me think about it."

"Good", Alucard said, realizing that he had just made another good investment. "Leave me a note under my door. Be discreet."

"Absolutely, sir", the kid said with a smile. "And have yourself a good day!"

"Sure thing, kid", Alucard said, and made his way back up to the penthouse suite.

Today was a horrible day, and Alucard wanted to unwind. Naturally, in order to do this, he would kick his apprentice out of his room, and watch the Clone Wars for the eleventh time. He would watch a vampire movie... if there were_ any_ good ones on Netflix. But the best he had seen was Underworld, and even that was average at best. Blade was far better, but it was more shoot-em-up, less story, and he was in the mood for a story-telling. To top it all off, of course, Netflix wasn't hosting it.

Clone Wars it was.

He opened his penthouse door to find Seras sitting on the edge of the bed, looking downtrodden.

"Get up, get lost", Alucard told her.

She looked hurt.

"I need some alone time. Go find something fun to do."

"Bloody hell", she muttered, and continued to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You got wax in your ears? Scram."

"Can we talk?"

"About that guy? Later. For now, no."

"Bloody hell", she muttered again.

When she made no move to leave, Alucard began sucking in air. He was going to roast her like an absolute legend, when a knock on the door drew him from his forming arguments. Confused, he pulled out one of his silverballers, and walked towards the door. He cracked it open just a little bit, to find Pip, with his eyepatch, a towel thrown over his shoulder, shirtless, with swimming trunks on that looked like a French flag.

_Of course he would have swimming trunks like that,_ Alucard thought with a mental sigh.

"What do you want", Alucard asked, the impatience clear in his voice.

"Me and the boys just found out that this place has a huge pool", Pip explained. "We plan on celebrating the little victories. Care to join us?"

"Forget it", Alucard told him. "I just got Netflix hooked up, I hear a bottle of wine calling my name, and even if I didn't have those things to hold my attention, your abs wouldn't do me much better. Also, fuck hotel swimming pools. Them motherfuckers got too much chlorine in them."

Pip shrugged, mumbling, "Geez, fine", and turned to leave.

"I'll go with you", Seras pipped up from the background.

Alucard turned a curious gaze towards her. She returned it with a glare, then stood up, and rummaged around in her bag.

"I brought a onesie for just this occasion", she informed.

"The hell", Alucard asked, confused. "You brought a swimsuit?"

"If you were there for the after-meeting", Seras told him, throwing her swimsuit over her shoulder and walking towards the door, "you might have brought one too."

She shoved past him, and walked out into the hall. All of the three Americans who were left were there in their trunks, looking like they didn't have a stick rammed up their ass for once. Pip casually stretched out his arm, saying, "Welcome to the party!"

Seras glanced back at Alucard from over her shoulder, saying, "Come on, guys. Let's go."

"Wow", Alucard said, as the group left him behind. "That's the best you could come up with? Really?"

The group threw confused glances from over their shoulders, but other than that, they didn't really seem to care. Alucard gave a "Psh", and closed the door, locking it behind him. Time to chill out.

...

James Braid had, over the past hundred and fifty years, been fully converted.

He had, at the start of his career, believed that hypnotism was nothing more than a small fix for small problems. He had believed that anyone who had believed that hypnotism was the answer to everything was either a fool and therefore not worth anyone's time listening to, or a fool's follower, thereby worse and far stupider.

Until he had hypnotized a vampire, accidentally unlocking the secrets to immortality.

Now, he had an army of followers who looked like normal, everyday men, but who would die for him in a heartbeat. And furthermore, he was immortal. He owned every inch of this city, and anyone who didn't like it could piss off... or die.

And now this dickhead, Alucard or whatever, had shown up, with the purpose of destroying him? Banish the thought! Clearly, he needed to demonstrate why he was the man who ran this place.

And as he crept closer towards the penthouse suite door, he couldn't help but grin, knowing tonight was going to be quite genuinely fun.


	6. Chapter 5: Motel Quickie

_Vampires don't have powers... I don't know who told me this, but they're dead now, so whatever. There are two types of "power" that I have encountered whilst fighting vampires; magic, and what I call "power" because I don't have a better name for it. Magic can typically be defined as a "borrowed" power, as in, you would need to perform a ritual in order to acquire the usage of this power. Power, however, is intrinsic by nature, and you're either born with it and have full access to it, or you discover you have it and con manipulate it later in life. Either way, in terms of difficulty to fight, remember this; magic bad, power worse. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 5: Motel Quickie

Alucard had called on room service three times already, mostly to bring him more wine, and at least twice they had said, "Who's that guy outside your door trying to break in", but Alucard wasn't too worried. If someone was stupid enough to break into his room when he was in a bad mood, then they were going to be the cleaning service's problem soon enough.

Funny, but he couldn't trace his bad mood back to any particular source. He had initially thought that it was because he realized his infiltration unit was stupid enough to allow one of their own to get murdered right in front of them, but after careful consideration, he realized that he had known from the beginning how shit they were going to be. When you applied for a job that no one else wanted, you were either dedicated to the work, or you were desperate. He most definitely got a desperate vibe from Pip.

He tried, then, to find exactly what it was that was making him so upset. After thinking for some time, he finally decided to stop thinking about it and just enjoy watching the Clone Wars. He was on the episodes with the big black diamond in the sky where the force manifested itself into three morons who were worse than the Kardashians at handling family drama. He was to the part where Ashoka was turned to the dark side and was fighting Anakin over a sword or something.

"Yeah, tell her, Anakin", Alucard shouted, a little tipsy, "fuckin' yeah! Tell her off!"

Anakin called her by her pet name, and Ashoka replied that she hated being called that name. And right about then, it hit Alucard. The answer to why he was in such a bad mood.

He was failing his student. She was hurting, scared, in need of guidance, and he was brushing her off to watch a show on Netflix. The hell kind of teacher_ does_ that?

He thought back to when he had commanded armies, thinking about all of the students and lieutenants he had taught over his years of life and death, and tried to think if he had ever made the same mistakes there. And with a start, he realized he had.

He had avoided consoling his mercenaries with any personal problems, of course, but that was because they were mercenaries, swords for hire, and had no bearing over his personal life, other than vengeance and victory. And in death, he had consoled his men personally to shape them into better soldiers. But he could think of at least one disastrous problem that he had simply ignored because he had no answer for it.

Vasya, his First Lieutenant and Protégée.

She had been completely and totally obsessed with him.

It had started out healthy enough. He had "saved" her, so naturally, she wanted to prove her worth to him. Battle after battle, campaign after campaign, she had fought to the best of her ability and to the detriment of the enemy, whoever they happened to be; bastard Turks, Christian knights, even other undead armies. Her battles had been epic, her exploits legendary, her leadership exemplary.

One day, he noticed that she was following him at a distance. It didn't alarm him initially, but when the entire day had passed without her approaching him, he began to grow concerned. Three days later, and she was still trying to follow him around. Eventually, it grew to every single day that she was back at his castle. He pretended not to notice, even when he had stumbled upon the shrine that she had built to him and secreted away, complete with an apple that had his teeth marks in it, clearly covered in a fresh coat of saliva, despite the apple being several days old.

He had no doubt in his mind about how unhealthy this was, and it really put him off. Yet he had no idea how to even begin to approach this kind of topic, so he allowed this behavior to continue, pretending not to notice... until her death, nearly fifty years later.

Now, of course, Seras had a completely different set of problems, a set that was easily approachable, and more than likely easily fixable. Yet here he was, pushing her away and ignoring her.

This had to change.

He resolved that when she came back to the room, they were going to have a talk, and that he would try and smooth things over with her. He would give her his tips, all of them, no homo, and then he would train her.

He smiled to himself, and leaned back onto the couch, drinking deeply from his glass of wine.

And right then, the door cracked open.

...

Seras changed in the hotel dressing room by the pool, unbuttoning her Helsing uniform, and folding it up to make sure it didn't wrinkle. She slipped into the onesie, noting that the front was a bit stretched out, showing a lot more cleavage than she was usually comfortable with. She didn't think it would be much of a problem, considering that she was hanging out with professionals.

When she closed up the locker, and stepped outside of the dressing room, however, she found an entire group of four professional mercenaries ogling her boobs.

_Great,_ she thought, _already off to a good start._

At least it was better than trying to interact with Alucard. If she didn't know him any better, she would swear he didn't have a soul. But since she knew him, she could confirm it. She had never once seen him display any positive emotion, or give her any proper guidance, or do anything that wasn't entirely selfish, for that matter. The man was nothing more than an asshole, a drain on the positive energy of the world.

She stopped those thoughts in their tracks, starting to feel bad. He might not do good things often, certainly, but he_ had_ saved her. Even if he had been the one who had shot her, he could have just left her, but chose not to.

The bad thoughts started again. Of course he didn't leave her behind; he didn't want her death on his conscience. There he was, going and being selfish again, dragging her into a world she didn't want to be in, turning her into a being she didn't want to be, forcing her to do horrible things that she didn't want to do.

Once again, she pushed those thoughts aside. She and the boys were here to swim, and that was what she was going to do. Or just relax in the water. Either or, she wasn't here to think about Alucard. She was here to relax.

As she thought this, one of the men charged towards the huge heated pool, and jumped, flipping straight into the water. The rest of the Americans, enthused by their comrade, ran after him, jumping into the pool in odd and hilarious poses. Seras chuckled.

She turned towards Pip, who was still calmly walking towards the pool beside her.

"Aren't you going to jump in, Mr. Bernadotte", she asked, assuming that he would join his men in their hilarity.

"I believe not, Mrs. Victoria", he replied. "I came here to relax, and that's what I'm going to do."

He eyed her curiously her with his good eye.

"Unless you'd rather I join my men?"

"You can do whatever you want", Seras told him neutrally.

_I think she's into me,_ Pip thought.

...

Just to dunk on the newer Clone Wars' General Grievous, Alucard pulled up a video of the old Clone Wars General Grievous fight scene on the TV, and was watching that instead of Grievous' many terrible fight scenes in the new Clone Wars.

"Yeah, do it to 'em", Alucard yelled at the TV. "My boy Grievous got the mofuckin short stick in the EU. You know what they need to do? Go to any Anime company, show them this fight scene, no other context, and tell them to make an Anime solely with that in mind about General Grievous. Think about all the Star Wars fans that would fill their pants at the sight of that!"

"Ahem", James Braid said from behind him.

"I mean, add in a spicy Jedi love-triangle, and you've got an Anime of the year, E-Z!"

"_Ahem_."

"Disney please."

"AHEM!"

"I know you're there; I'm intentionally ignoring you", Alucard informed his unauthorized visitor.

"Then allow me to introduce myself", the man said. "I am James Baird, and I run this mother fucking city. And I hear you're here to upset my rule."

"Hold on, this is the best part. Look at that shit! He's grabbing a sword with his_ feet_, and using that bitch to destroy these expert swordsmen! I mean, how the fuck could you allow a character like that to become such a shitty secondary?! Come on, George!"

"I_ was _going to kill you", James admitted, "but then I saw that you've got some friends. And I'd rather not deal with them, too."

James's sharp teeth showed in a mean grin.

"I'd rather_ you_ fight them."

"Speaking of fighting", Alucard interjected, "the swordplay in this scene is on_ point_! I mean, look at those guard positions! Someone who really loves to be accurate and realistic made this, you can tell. Thank you, Samurai Jack!"

The grin faded from James' face, and was replaced by a scowl.

"Wanker", James mumbled.

Alucard wheeled around faster than Jams could react, a .454 in his hand, pointed straight at the middle of James' chest.

"You need a demonstration or something", Alucard asked casually.

"No", James answered carefully, slowly reaching into his pocket. "But I do need your help."

"Ok", Alucard said cautiously, "but I'm not going to suck your dick."

"...What?"

"Well, look at yourself. You're so deprived that you look deprived. So I figured you'd want a blowjob or something."

"No one is sucking anyone's dick", James assured him, pulling his pocket watch from his pocket. "All I need you to do is watch this here watch. Watch the big hand on it."

"Kinky", Alucard told him. "Not really what I'm into, but I'm sure I can make it work."

"What's with the sexual references, mate", James asked. "You dry?"

"No", Alucad told him, "but I'm pretty sure that if you're smart, you have something close to an army waiting outside to clean up after you if shit starts going wrong. So I'd prefer to be on your 'good side' wink wink."

"I'm not gay."

"You come in here dressed like_ that_ and tell me you're not gay? Do you get dressed professionally, then? By professional male fluffers?"

"All I want you to do", James told him, "is follow my watch."

"I take notice of the fact you didn't say 'no'", Alucard told him. "But for the sake of moving this dull-ass conversation along, I'll take a look at your little watch."

Alucard glanced towards it, and right away he could tell that it was a cursed item. More than likely, the guy had come across it after breaking into Michael Aquino's home, probably stole it while Michael was busy eating children. The thing looked like it had had so many rituals applied to it that it was about to get up and walk out of the room in sheer disgust. It was so cursed it even _smelt_ bad.

And as Alucard watched this thing, he realized that it was having quite literally no effect on him.

He did his absolute best to suppress a grin.

"You are becoming rather tired."

"I am becoming rather tired."

"When I snap my fingers, you will sleep."

"When you snap your fingers, I will sleep."

_Snap_.

Alucard went limp, his .454 thumping to the floor.

"From now on, I control you. I rule your existence. I am your god!"

Alucard didn't know how to respond to that without laughing, so he didn't.

"When I snap my fingers, you will-"

Just to make things interesting, Alucard started snoring. Loudly.

"When I snap my fingers, you will-"

_SNORE _

"When I-"

_SNOOOOOOORE _

"Oh for fuck's sake, just wake up already!"

Alucard snapped awake.

"Now, you will destroy your friends!"

"Ok daddy."

"What?"

"What?"

"... Go, go, _go_! Just bloody kill your friends!"

"On it", Alucard said, swiping his .454 off of the ground.

Under his breath, Alucard mumbled, "Dumbass... little do you know, I don't _have_ any friends!"

He walked over to the door, flung it open, and walked out to go warn the boys about the impending attack.

...

Seras was having a great time. She got to lay out, soak in the pool, and watch the actually well-built mercenaries jump in the pool like a bunch of seven-year-olds at a birthday party. She was enjoying herself quite a lot when Pip swam over to her and began asking questions.

"So, Mrs. Police Girl, how did you become a vampire?"

Since it wasn't exactly the question she had been expecting, and since she was in a particularly good mood, she decided to humor him.

"Well", she began, "Alucard accidentally shot me, and then he turned me into a vampire to save me."

"Yeesh", Pip commented, physically cringing. "That stinks."

"Yeah", Seras took a moment to see if Pip would ask her any other questions.

"So, he shot you... and then saved you... why?"

"I", Seras paused. She had thought long and hard about this subject, too, and the more she examined it, the less it made sense. Was it possible that Alucard, the biggest asshole in existence, had suddenly gained a shred of compassion? Or was it more sinister than that? Was her death pre-meditated, to turn her into an errand dog of doom?

"You know what", Pip said, interrupting her thoughts, "I'm sure that he had his reasons."

Seras was relieved that Pip was able to pry her from her thoughts. She had spent hours at a time trying to dissect that night, thinking about every word, every motion, every expression, and ultimately, she exhausted herself every time trying to find an answer. Every time, she had come to the same conclusion.

There was no rhyme, nor reason, to any of it. There was no point, no purpose. Alucard did what he pleased because it pleased him. Perhaps he admired her breasts. Maybe that was why he had saved her.

She once again shook herself from those thoughts. She was here to relax, not unravel mysteries that were paradoxical, overwhelming, and already seemed age-old. So, she allowed the water to soak her skin.

"Yes", Seras said with a sigh, "I suppose he does."

With a start, Seras realized that Pip was trying to make conversation with her. She hadn't come to make conversation, but it was more than likely that Pip felt uncomfortable not knowing her, despite the fact that he inherently trusted his life to her. In fact, when she thought of it that way, it wasn't just rude, it was dangerous for her to not interact with him on some level.

"So", she began, "you're a mercenary?"

"As I live and breath, mademoiselle."

"How did you get started doing that?"

"Well, my Grand-pere was a mercenary, and he wanted me to follow in his footsteps. So, after a very_ boring_ deployment with the _force editactive_, I started my own small company,_ Force de Garde_, and started ending... or maybe starting... wars in the middle east. Then we got busted for... you know what, never mind. We were out of the job, and hired on to the Helsing Organization as guards, and here we are!"

"Fascinating", Seras said, mostly to keep from asking too many questions. She looked him up and down, finally deciding on, "Wow, nice braid!"

"Thanks", Pip said, running a hand along it. "I keep a braid for every friend I lost in the... uh... wars."

And for every man he had killed. But he didn't think that would be an appropriate topic.

"I'm sorry for your loss", Seras said genuinely. "That's a lot of friends."

"Ha, ha", a familiar voice said behind them, "the French military sucks and loses all of their men to shit tactics so Pip lost all his friends to arab cavalry charges."

Pip and Seras both turned their heads to see Alucard, with one of his handcannons in his hand. He pointed his gun at the ceiling, and began firing randomly.

"Hey guys", Alucard said through gunshots, "if you couldn't tell, we're under attack. Get your shit and get ready for a fight."

"Out of a minute sense of mild curiosity", Pip said, "I must ask; why in the _merde_ are you shooting the ceiling of this pool that no one else fortunately happens to be in?"

"I'm hypnotized", Alucard said, as if that explained everything. "Get your shit quick. This guy's got an army of loyal followers waiting outside."

"Who-"

"No time to explain", Alucard shouted, slapping a fresh mag into his silverballer. "We get our shit, we strike first, we strike hard, we leave no survivors, we get cheesesteaks. Any questions?"

"Where will we get cheesesteaks", the southerner asked.

"Truly a man of detail", Alucard praised. "I haven't decided. Tomorrow we find out!"

The three Americans, one Frenchman, and English woman ran to the dressing room. They tore open their lockers, not even bothering to change, grabbing whatever weaponry they could get their hands on. The Mercs launched out of the dressing room one by one, handguns loaded, ready to tear shit up.

Seras was the only one left empty-handed. Alucard grabbed her arm on the way out. She looked up at him, curiosity in her posture.

He produced his other silverballer, handing it to her by the barrel. She looked bewildered for a moment, and looked up at him questioningly.

"Take it", he told her. "I've got another one."

When she still looked hesitant, he added, "I trust you."

She nodded, grabbed the grip of the big pistol, and followed her master down the hall with it in her hands.

...

Men in black suits and body armor, sporting automatic rifles, were already pouring into the hotel lobby by the time the group of Mercs got down to the lobby floor. In fact, as soon as their elevator doors opened, they were sprayed with bullets. Alucard threw himself into the thick of it, charging out the door, and unloading with his pistol, hitting three brainwashed sheeple in various unarmored sections of their bodies, splashing crimson essence all over the floor and walls. But dozens more were making their way into the lobby, and as Pip and his crew charged out of the elevator and spread out amongst the sparse cover, Seras found herself freezing up in the elevator.

Whilst Alucard drew fire, all of these trained professionals were ducking, diving, dodging, and painting the floor red. Yet here she was, curling up into a ball, trying not to get shot. She would have called herself a coward, but she was, truly and terribly, scared out of her mind.

Alucard dove into the middle of the meddlers, lashing out with his hands in no particular style, simply touching people, and watching their decrepit bodies fly away from him in all directions. She didn't know how he did it, but part of her hoped that she never got as powerful as him; she didn't know if she could live with herself if she wrought that amount of destruction.

She cringed as another round zipped past her head. She squeezed herself tighter together, trying to remain as small as possible. The Mercs all dashed from their positions as Alucard switched styles again, grabbing one sheep, shoving the barrel of his silverballer into his gut, and shooting through him into other sheep, like some kind of fucked up John Wick rip-off. He spun around, keeping the meat shield in front of him, firing through him into other sheep, spraying blood all over the walls.

When his shield began to receive lots of fire, and finally was shed of all of its life, he tossed it away, and backed up slowly towards the elevator, rifle rounds slashing through him, leaving small streaks of blood. He fired back, blasting whole limbs off of sheeple, where their smaller rounds slashed through and left little in the way of damage. However, when lots of these rounds were smashing into him, lots of damage was occurring, ripping internal organs, tearing muscle from bone, ripping through the spinal cord. Alucard jerked, dancing around like a ballerina, and then fell into the open elevator, right as the doors began to close once again. The doors closed on his jerking body, bumping his body just slightly.

His eyes were upturned to face towards Seras'. And as she stared into those eyes, another sheep walked up to Alucard's limp body, and forced the barrel of the rifle onto his face, holding down the trigger. Alucard's face began disappearing before her eyes, and she suddenly felt rage coming over her. Despite her reservations about Alucard, he had saved her life, and because of that, in a strange way, she owed her life in return. And watching him be savaged like that, it set off something in her.

She brought the gun up, leveling it at the sheep's head, and shouted, "Leave him alone!"

The sheep whipped around to look at her, leveling his rifle, as Seras squeezed the trigger. A hole appeared in his forehead, and the back of his head exploded outward, coating the inside of the elevator in brain matter, bits of skull, and pieces of flesh, leaving a grapefruit sized hole in the back of his head. Strips of flesh slapped against the front of his head.

His body crumpled to the floor, his bulging eyes looking in Seras' direction. Almost immediately, she began to feel remorse like never before. There was no detachment like there had been with the zombies, who were already dead, there was no blood rage like with the ghouls, and it was nothing like the vampires, who were not only already dead, but also evil to the core. This was a man, pure and simple, who had been brainwashed, probably against his will, to fight for some prick he probably didn't even agree with.

Alucard's face quickly stitched itself back together, and Alucard winked at her, grabbed the rifle from the dead guy's hands, and laid on the trigger, sweeping the crowd of sheeple, who briefly retreated. Alucard pulled a mag out of the rig of the dead sheep, and pushed the fresh one into the rifle's well. He whistled, getting the southerner's attention, and tossed him the rifle. Alucard ripped the rig off of the dead sheep, and slid it across the floor towards the southerner.

Alucard shot up, feathering the trigger of his handcannon to get the sheeple to retreat further. He turned towards Seras, who was curled into the fetal position, tears sliding from eyes that weren't blinking. He wanted to try and do something to make her feel better. But there wasn't enough time to do something like that in a firefight.

Another round zipped through his chest, snapping him back into action. He raised his pistol, and splashed the wall with the blood of another sheep, who lost his head as it was straight decapitated by a heavy .454 round. Around this time, the sheep decided that they had taken too many casualties, and had initiated a tactical "rolling tide" retreat, using a wave of men to empty their rifles, then duck and melt into another wave, and so on and so forth.

The last few trickled out of the door, and Alucard finished his mag, slapping a fresh one in, and replacing it to his jacket. He glanced at the other mercs, who had already begun stripping down the dead sheep of their equipment. He instead walked right over to the elevator, the door of which had closed. He pressed the up button to open the door, and it slid open to find the scene much how he had left it.

He stepped inside, blocking her view of the dead sheep, and he held out a hand to her. She slowly looked up at him, tears still streaming down puffy eyes that more than likely hadn't blinked the whole time. She continued to keep a level stare on him, and he continued to keep his hand outstretched. Eventually, she reached up, taking his hand in hers, and he reached down, gently pulling her up by her shoulders. He shielded her sight of the dead sheep with his body, and led her out of the elevator. The mercs wordlessly followed him, now fully equipped with rifles and body armor.

Alucard put his hand in front of her eyes, shielding her from seeing the other slaughtered sheep. Their mangled bodies were surrounded by a pool of blood and gore that would have rivaled Left 4 Dead 2, Postal 2, Hatred, and Untitled Goose Game all together. The entire hotel was wrecked beyond recognition, with bullet holes covering the walls, and shattered glass everywhere.

As they walked out of the lobby, a shaky cough from the receptionist desk drew his attention. He waited until he had walked Seras to their car, got her properly seated, and then casually mentioned to Pip that he would be back in a minute. He walked back into the hotel lobby, and walked over to the front desk reception. And of course, who should be sitting up against the wall, with a gaping hole in his neck, deader than dead, but the kid with the long hair and acne.

There was nothing he could do for him now. No favors, no 25%, not even kind words would help him now. He stood up, and walked out of the hotel, listening to the sound of police sirens in the distance. He slipped into the seat next to a shivering Seras.

He simply told Pip, "Drive", and the good commander did so.


	7. Chapter 6: A Night on the Town

_Too many people have forgotten their history. For instance, people are quick to recognize Germany as the aggressor of both world wars, but they are quick to forget that during the First, Germany was surrounded, without any chance for aid or relief, unless they had struck first. In the same way, people forget about what happened to Vlad the Impaler as a child. In fact, the main stream has gone so far as to quite nearly cover it up, and have instead given the people Dracula. It's quite vindictive of the times. They have forgotten their history, and, by extension, they have forgotten that heroes exist, and in their desperation for guidance, they have turned to their villains. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 6: A Night on the Town

Standard procedure required them to be mobile until the threat had been eliminated, a task which was simple on paper but would be wildly difficult to accomplish in person. For one, no one knew where James had vanished to, which already made things complicated. For two, they had no idea where he was staging from, which further complicated things. For three, they were more than likely being hunted by his brainwashed minions even as the Mercs were inspecting and cleaning their new gear as best they could with what they had.

And to top it all off, Seras wasn't getting any better. She had been leaned up against the window, quietly crying, for the past three hours, and showed no indication of stopping anytime soon. She stared out the window, as if she were staring into the past, reliving the murder she had committed on repeat.

Alucard had watched her the whole time, uncertain of how to resolve the situation sitting in his lap. Or, more accurately, the one sitting in the seat next to him.

No, that was a poor way to put it. She wasn't the problem. It was completely normal to regret killing what was essentially an innocent man.

What wasn't normal was her not having anyone to help her through such a troubling time.

And as he continued staring at her, still clad in her swimsuit, he noticed that she had started shivering.

And he made a decision.

"Stop the car."

Pip threw on the brakes. He hit them so hard that one of the Mercs was actually thrown from his seat. The car came to a screeching halt in the middle of a residential street, and someone screeched past them, laying on their horn.

Alucard opened his door, stepping out into the road, and yelled to Pip, "I'll be back soon."

He slammed the door behind him, and began walking back in the direction of the Hotel.

...

He returned thirty minutes later, with several duffels in tow, along with Seras' rolling bag. The whole car was tense, save Seras, who was still out of it, until they saw Alucard. He popped open the trunk, and threw everything in, save for something folded up under his arm. He closed the trunk, and walked around to his door, and swept inside, shutting the door behind him.

Seras didn't look over at him, but he didn't expect her to. Pip did turn around, however, and, with his mouth agape, began;

"H-how-"

Alucard knew how it had gone down.

_"What? You gonna shoot me?" _

_"Maybe I will." _

_"Do it then, dumbass! Shoot a police officer, see what ha-" _

_BOOM! _

_"OW, HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK!?" _

_"You told me to shoot you." _

_"YOU BLEW MY FUCKING EAR OFF!" _

_"Don't fuck with government officials, bitch." _

"Let's not talk about that."

Pip paused a moment, and finally accepted it, nodding slowly, and turned back towards the road. Alucard turned back towards Seras, who was still leaned up against the window, and cleared his throat. She didn't even turn. He patted her shoulder. She turned slightly, turning her eyes in his direction.

He took out the object tucked under his arm, and stretched it out towards her.

It was her Helsing uniform.

She looked down at her uniform, and stared at it for nearly half a minute. Then she turned her eyes up towards him.

"You look cold in that swimsuit", Alucard told her, "and this looks better on you anyway."

She looked at him for a while longer.

"Have you ever killed an innocent man", she asked.

"No", he told her. She turned away from him. "But I did kill an innocent woman. Actually, I've killed two. And each time it hurt."

She didn't look back at him at first. But after a moment, she turned and looked at him again. She didn't say anything for a moment, and then she eventually asked the question he hoped she wouldn't have.

"You've done this before?!"

"Yes", Alucard told her. "Yes and no. Yes, I've killed another innocent woman before. Yes, I sired her to save her. No, she wasn't my apprentice. No, it wasn't worth it. If she's not dead, she's plotting her revenge against me as we speak."

Seras took a moment to digest this.

"It... wasn't worth it?"

"No, it wasn't."

"And... I'm worth your trouble?"

"Every ounce of it", Alucard told her with a grin. "Because you actually pull this uniform off."

He thought about what he'd said, and then added quickly, "In a non-sexual way."

She looked back down at the uniform, lost in thought. Alucard didn't break the silence. The next part was all her.

Finally, she looked away, saying, "Well, I'm not bloody changing in here."

"That's the spirit", Alucard told her. "No room for hidden cameras in a car this crowded."

...

A stop at a gas station, and everyone changed into "work clothes" later, Pip finally decided to ask, "So, where are we going to go now?"

Alucard thought for a moment. The Helsing Organization hadn't had an active safehouse in America since the 1950's, and checking into a hotel simply wasn't an option, given how easily James Braid had found them the first time. Alucard had considered telling them to sleep in the car, but the more he thought about it, the less that sounded like a good idea. One good machinegun sweep and finding the best cheesesteak in Philidelphia would be the last of their problems... literally.

The only safe option would be to go out of town and find a campground, but that wasn't exactly an ideal situation either. For one, Philidelphia wasn't exactly known for its lovely near-town campsites... so far as he knew... so getting to and from one would take time, of which, they didn't have much while being hunted. For another, they didn't have any camping equipment with them, because Alucard would have had to check it on their flight and that would have been a hassle.

But that was the safest option there was. If they kept driving around until morning, a time at which James' operators would surely still be operating, everyone would be tired, and that was bad all around.

He was about to open his mouth to debate this with Pip at length... maybe one of the Americans knew another option... when his phone began ringing.

_Yes, a lap dance is so much beeeeetter when the striper is cryin'. _

"Oop, hold on", Alucard told Pip, holding up a finger, "Gotta take this."

Alucard flipped open his phone, saying, "Mmyellow?"

"Alucard, ya back-pockin snake", Anderson said in his Scottish mumbo-jumbo.

"'Sup, papist?"

"So, I heard ya gots yourself in a wee bit 'o trouble", Anderson said coyly.

"Now, where would you hear some misinformation like that", Alucard asked.

"Oh, you know the church, ol' boy", Anderson told him. "We've got ears ev'rywhere, especially on a certain pain in our arse who shoots police officers' ears off!"

"You shot a police officer's ears off", Pip asked, stunned.

"Ear", Alucard corrected, then turned back to the phone. "I admit, I may be in a slight amount of trouble, but it's quickly resolving."

"Ah, but how quickly, though", Anderson rebuked, "'cause it just so seems to me that you're resolvin' things at a snail's pace!"

"And how would you know something like that?"

"'Cause I'm getting' gas at the pump across the way from you."

"Of course you are", Alucard said, turning in Anderson's direction.

There he stood, next to an old drop-top Cadillac, his trench coat hiding his outline in the dark, but unable to hide the white face, his green eyes covered by rounded glasses, the blond hair atop his head, or the long, pink scar across his cheek.

Or the big shit-eating grin, which showed almost every tooth he had.

Anderson waved at him. Alucard, being polite, waved back. Anderson put his phone back up to his mouth.

"Tell ya what", Anderson told him. "Since we do have a truce and all, and it is kinda getting' late, I may have lodgin's for the night, if ya'd take me up on the offer?"

Alucard turned to Pip, who shrugged.

"He did say we have a truce, didn't he?"

Alucard nodded, putting the phone back up to his ear.

"I'll take you up on that offer. What'll it cost me?"

"Well", Anderson began, "I was going to do it out of the kindness of mah heart, but now thatchya mention it... I'm givin' a little sermon this Sunday, and it would just make my day if you attended in the flesh."

"In the flesh?!"

He had pulled a stunt like this before, only, instead of actually going, Alucard had left a laptop in the front row of pews facing Anderson. To be fair, he _had_ been watching the whole time... whilst also streaming hentai at full volume. Needless to say, while Anderson had had a great time, the rest of the Priests, and everyone else attending Mass, hadn't. Someone had "accidentally" spilled Holy Water all over the laptop halfway through the sermon. Alucard could think of more than one way to ruin a sermon, however, and being there in the flesh happened to provide him with even better opportunities.

Of course, he couldn't show up naked... that would be too easy. Anderson would probably point him out as a "Wayward Man" and have someone donate him a XXXL Beavis and Butthead t-shirt. He had to get creative.

"Well, if it's for the sake of my soul... aw, what the hell. Sure, I'll be there."

"Excellent", Anderson said. "Now, gather up your little pride parade and follow me."

"Pip", Alucard told the Frenchman, who had heard the whole conversation and had wrinkled his face in protest, "go get everyone back to the car. And tell them to make it snappy."

...

Where Anderson had ended up taking them was none other than the St. Patrick's Church of Philidelphia. As soon as Pip turned the car off, Anderson jumped straight out of his car, not even bothering to open the door, what with his roof down. Anderson walked straight up to their SUV, a wicked grin across his face. As soon as Alucard got out of the car, he clapped him on the shoulder.

"There's a kind of apartment near the church", Anderson told him. "You little shites can have it for the night. I've got stuff ta do anywho."

"Ooh", Alucard probed, "fun stuff?"

"Nah", Anderson said with a sigh. "Got arses ta kiss."

"Well", Alucard pondered, "are they good-looking arses?"

Anderson laughed, shouting, "I bloody wish! Now get your ugly arse into that buildin'! Here's the key."

Anderson slipped a metal key into his hand, and then disappeared into the night. The man practically vanished. Alucard grasped the key, and made his way to the small apartment complex. He figured out pretty easily which room it was, room number 7, and opened it up. Surprise, surprise, it was filled to the brim with garlic flowers.

Seras recoiled in terror, and, in a way, it was kind of cute. Alucard trotted over to her, and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Come on, now, Police Girl, it's just garlic! Just a good-natured prank by Alexander Anderson!"

"D-doesn't garlic k-kill vampires", she asked, fear causing her voice to tremble.

"Of course not", Alucard assured her. "Whoever started that rumor was a liar who was kidding himself. All garlic does is help fight off infections... in case of a botched bite."

Seras looked up at him inquisitively.

"Actually", Alucard thought out loud, "come to think of it, this may not be a prank at all. More than likely, our good friend Anderson is fighting off a cold!"

Noticing that Seras was still hesitant, he gave her a hard shove, and she stumbled into the room. When she didn't drop dead, she began to relax, but her knees still knocked together like crazy. Alucard walked into the room behind her, and inhaled deeply.

"Smells like mom's cookin'", he said in a botched Scottish accent.

Seras began chuckling a little, and the knees stopped knocking.

It was quickly decided that Seras, who still needed sleep, was to get the one small, shitty bed, and the men were to get the floor. Alucard, however, had unfinished business outside, and told them not to wait up on him.

Alucard walked out of the apartment complex, and started his way down the path the he could smell Anderson heaviest. He followed the scent down to an old, "abandoned" warehouse, and, with his enhanced hearing, could already hear some heated back and forth going on. He could hear Anderson shouting in defense of some people that he referred to as "good folk", and could hear someone screaming in Italian that these "so-called good folk" were ruining the Vatican's overall plans for America and that someone had to draw the line.

The argument got to a head point when Anderson shouted, "So, are ye pissed off at 'em doing our job fer us? Or because you'd rather let the monster's they're keepin' off tha streets continue their ghoulish work?!"

Apparently, that _really_ pissed off whoever Anderson was talking to.

"The Vatican has a _design,_ Father Anderson, and his grace the Pope expects that you would follow it in humble servitude!"

"Well, mayhaps the Pope would shed some light on why the Vatican would allow abominations ta curse the ground we walk on with their very feet?!"

"The Pope does not need to explain himself to the likes of you!"

"Oh, but I thought the Pope loved everyone", Anderson countered, "and was a holy man of God who would put himself before the people! By that logic, anyone can ask him _anything_!"

"Tread carefully, Anderson", the Italian voice warned, "what you say borders on heresy!"

"And what do you do when the heretic-hunters become heretics themselves", Anderson prostrated. "Not for a lack of belief, but for a lack of actionable intel?!"

"This conversation is over", the Italian roared, "you will-"

"You're right", Anderson interjected, "the conversation is over, and therefore I make my leave!"

Right around this time, Alucard felt someone creeping up on him. He reached into his holster, withdrew a .454, and turned towards the source. Who else could it have been but Seras. She jumped visibly at the sight of him pointing a gun in her direction, so he immediately lowered it.

"When I said 'don't wait up'", Alucard chastised, "I also meant 'Don't follow me'."

As he finished his tirade, a hand clapped down on his shoulder. He didn't bother turning a gun on it; there weren't many humans in history who had the ability to sneak up on him, and even fewer still were alive today. Even though the man preferred a more straight-forward approach to subtlety, Alucard immediately knew who was behind him.

"Alexander", Alucard began, in an almost apologetic tone, "if that ass-chewing was about us, I hereby formally say that I'm sort of upset about it on our behalf."

"Ah, no bother", Anderson told him, "that wasn't about you anyhow."

This got Alucard to turn his head.

"It wasn't?"

"If the Vatican knows you're here", Anderson explained, "they've certainly made a point to not inform me. Which usually means they don't care. Methinks they think you'll uphold our ceasefire agreement or somethin' outrageous like that!"

"The Vatican, overlooking me", Alucard asked, with a drawn-back figure, yet still retaining his toothy grin. "I almost feel like a lost child in a Walmart; abandoned, forgotten, sad beyond belief. Is it because I've gained weight? Is that why they don't want to see me anymore?"

"Well", Seras pipped up, "if they weren't talkin' 'bout us, then who on earth has gotten them this mad?"

"A fair question for a pet", Anderson taunted. "How abouts I just show ya?"

"By all means", Alucard responded, his wicked grin widening.

...

The trio found themselves in the rafters of yet another warehouse, although this one didn't look abandoned. In fact, it more or less just had really poor security. Not that anyone was stealing from it, because it must have solely contained boxes full of washed-up soundcloud rappers' mixtapes. That thought brought some semblance of a grin to Alucard's face, as he shifted his position to get a better look at what happened below him.

Below him were a group of around five vampires doing a weapon's deal with another group of three vampires. This would be alarming in and of its own accord, simply because vampires banding together had been nearly unheard of since the Fall of Dracula. However, that wasn't everything bad about what was happening.

The weapons they were dealing in were military grade, all select-fire, as the group of three had done a demonstration to ensure their buyers knew all about it. That was quite alarming when combined with the fact that these vampires were clearly trying to create some kind of alliance. And all of that by itself would have been quite awful indeed.

But wait, it gets worse.

Leading the group of three was a Nephelimic giant, easily fifteen feet tall, bearing a large, bronze-age sword. He was tall and thin, but there was no disguising the fact that he could tear a man in half with his bare hands. He had six fingers on each hand, six toes on each foot, and double rows of teeth in his mouth, that showed when he laughed despite his best efforts.

Frankly, Alucard was a bit surprised that the creature hadn't smelled them, but there could be a plethora of reasons why he hadn't yet, or didn't care. Alucard was afraid to open his mouth, just in case the thing's reasoning was the former, because with the echoes of this warehouse, he would definitely hear them.

That thought couldn't possibly have occurred to Seras, but she had kept her mouth shut this entire time, able to read the tense atmosphere well enough. Alucard was still wondering what Anderson had been talking about, and quietly tried to get his attention without drawing unwanted eyes. Anderson glanced over, and Alucard shrugged. Anderson held up a single finger, _wait a moment more,_ and then turned back to the deal.

"Well", the giant bellowed, "I think our business here is concluded!"

Alucard couldn't hear what the leader of the other vampires said, but there was a lot of nodding and smiling involved. The four other vampires trudged forward, each grabbing a box, and turned to leave.

They froze in their tracks. Alucard hadn't even seen him come in, but standing in the doorway was a man decked out in every single conceivable piece of modern body armor, most of it patchwork, complete with a Russian Maska helmet, one that looked like it was a Kevlar and steel combination. In his left hand, he held a personal shield, and not the riot kind either, something new, entirely of its own accord, and in his right hand he held a heavily modified AR-15.

For a moment, the two parties stared at each other, no one uttering even so much as a word.

Finally, the giant pushed past the first group, yelling, "Human! Have you come to die?! You've come to the right place!"

The human lifted his right hand, and pointed his finger at the creature. He uttered angelic words, Alucard guessed that it was the giant's name. Either way, the tall creature stumbled, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"The LORD YAH has not forgotten you", the human continued, his voice booming, even in a place this big, and behind a steel faceplate. "Though you say in your heart, 'The LORD has not eyes for me'! He has sent me, a Warrior, to tell you that the time has come for your physical body to pass away, and for your immortal soul to be judged!"

The giant threw his head back and laughed, screaming, "And what hope do you, a mere mortal, have against the peak of your evolution?!"

It was a question Nephilim often asked, although it was a misleading one. They were not human, but hybrids, born from humans who had been impregnated by the wicked Fallen Angels. And when they got the courage to creep out of the caves and crevices and holes that they lived in, they flaunted like their shit didn't stink. Alucard hated them.

The human answered without missing a beat.

"You are of living matter", the human retorted, "and that which lives can also die. Such as my predecessors, the Hebrews, wiped out your kind in battle after battle oh so long ago, such as David bested Goliath with not but a stone in a sling, you too, shall cease to live! And by the LORD's hand, not mine, shall your life be taken! Make no mistake, abomination, your death comes not from me, but from the ONE TRUE GOD! The Great I AM! _Perish, now, in JESUS' name!_"

Strangely enough, the three vampires the giant had been buddied up with fell over dead on the spot, the life flowing from them so quickly that their skin shrunk to the bone, and their clothes that had only recently fit perfectly now seemed oversized on them. The giant, however, remained standing; he seemed like he was absolutely taken aback. If the human was smart, he would strike now.

Apparently, the human wasn't smart. The giant regained his footing. From there, him and the human began going back and forth in their Dragonball-Z dialogue

It was about this time that Seras tapped Alucard on the shoulder.

"What in the bloody hell is going on?"

"See that guy right there", Alucard said, pointing to the giant, "that guy is Nephilim. They're fucking difficult to deal with when they _don't _want to kill you, and they're the biggest pain in the ass you're ever going to fight, save maybe a Fallen Angel... not that you'll ever fight one. Even I haven't done that yet."

"Ah've done that!"

"Shut up, Anderson, you just broke an' you just hatin'. Where was I? Oh, yeah, the guy in UwUgaloo armor. That guy is Remnant. They're a sign of the end-times, I think, and they're completely un-special. You'll probably encounter those guys every once in a while, and if you do,_ run_. They're all chosen by God or some dumb shit like that, and they've got access to power like no one else, through what I can only assume is a direct line to God Himself. I've personally never been able to kill one."

Seras looked stunned by that revelation.

"You haven't?"

"Like I said, they've got a direct line to God, and from there it's Rock-Paper-Scissors logic, except rock beats everything and paper is the earth that the scissors cut up... I've lost you, haven't I? Basically, don't fuck with Remnant guys."

Around that time, the five vampires started to stand aside, and the giant moved forward, pulling his sword off of his belt. The Remnant man fired his modified AR on full auto, aiming for the giant's face. The creature almost didn't seem fazed, and as blood gushed down its face, it brought its sword around in a sweeping arc. The human raised his shield, taking the brunt of the attack. The shield folded in half, and the human flew away from it, into the opposing wall.

The human obviously had his left arm broken; it was dangling at an awkward angle. Nevertheless, he stood up, and reached around to his broken arm with his other one. He yanked on it, resetting the bone. Then he pulled a bronze knife from his belt, and advanced on the giant that had nearly killed him only moments before.

Seras was at once taken aback by the man's courage. More on the matter, his complete disregard for his own safety was telling in his actions, and the fact that he was willing to reuse an arm that would be pronounced completely useless by others. The man was nothing if not determined.

She breathed out a "Good God", and turned to see the others' reactions. Alucard wore a huge grin, and seemed to be trembling with excitement. Anderson seemed to be even more hyper, sharing in the grinning and tapping his foot on the rafter as quietly as he could.

She turned back to see the giant swinging his sword, and watched the human duck under the slash, and push the knife up under the giant's huge kneecap. The creature howled in pain, and as the human spun on his heels, producing a small pistol, the giant swung his sword around, hitting the human with the flat edge. The human flew into the wall again, the pistol clattering to the ground.

The giant wiped blood from his face. As he did so, he felt the holes in his face, and all of a sudden, his demeanor completely changed. Seras looked back over at Alucard to watch him grin big and wide.

"Smart motherfucker", he whispered, "he used solid copper rounds! They're poisonous to Nephilim; I don't know the science, but it stops their wounds from healing. Hit 'em with the regular shit or with lead or steel, and their wounds will just close right up. This guy knows his shit!"

"What about silver", Seras asked.

Alucard opened his mouth to continue talking, but he shut it right up at the sound of a small motor starting up.

The giant continued to wipe blood from his face, trying to get it out of his eyes. He was denied the image of the human, blood seeping from underneath his armor, using his broken arm to hold up an industrial chainsaw, and using his right arm to rip the cord, and coax the machine to life. It roared its fury, and the man, with his broken arm leaking blood from his greave, held it above his head, screaming like a wild banshee.

"You cannot possibly fathom", Alucard whispered to Anderson, "how incredibly erect I am."

"Not just you", Anderson commented. "I've got a stiffy meself!"

The human charged the giant, and in response, the giant swung his sword in his direction. But the blood in his eyes made aiming difficult, and he swung high, leaving his side exposed. The human plunged the chainsaw in under the Nephilim's armpit, throwing blood that was already congealing out onto his ruined body armor. The giant howled in pain, and fell to his knees, shivering.

The human, with his incredible courage, mounted the creature's back, and revved the chainsaw, trying his best to unclog the inner workings, and then pushed the blade into the giant's neck, tearing up sinew and muscle, and throwing up even more blood. The creature made to scream, but it became a gurgle as the chainsaw ripped into his throat. Eventually, the blade of the machine poked out the other side of the creature's neck. By this time, it had ceased making sound all together.

Just to prove how in the know this human was, he double tapped, and rammed the chainsaw into the giant's huge cerebral cortex, punching through the skull into the brain, and kept holding down the trigger until the thing jammed from all of the brain matter that was stuck in its engine. The man gave the chainsaw a hard shove, and the giant's whole head tumbled onto the ground, its eyes glassy and lifeless.

The human jumped off the creature, landing on his feet, and gave a roar that would put lions to shame.

"A man after mah heart", Anderson said, with something akin to awe in his voice.

"I totally creamed myself", Alucard informed him.

The human, however, was fading fast, and it was apparent to everyone. His body had received too much damage and lost too much blood. Nevertheless, when the five remaining vampires cautiously advanced on him, he drew another knife from his belt.

"Who's next", he said, through a raspy, wet cough. "Maybe you?" He pointed to the vampire closest to him, who backed away in sheer terror. "How about you", he asked the next closest.

"C'mon, look at him", one of the vampires told the rest of the group. "He's barely able to stand, much less fight. Let's just finish him off and grab our shit!"

Alucard had heard enough. With the crash of his .454, the vampire's head turned into red paste on the ground in front of him. Alucard left his perch from the rafters, floating gracefully down in front of the human, shielding him from the other vampires.

Slowly, he withdrew his other pistol, and crossed the two over his chest, telling the new fodder, "I won't kill you in the name of Jesus, but I can send you all straight to Hell!"

The way the light caught him in that instance, he appeared to be the embodiment of evil itself. His trench coat covered just enough of his crouched form to shade him in, leaving only his red-tinged glasses and his teeth reflecting, with the soft hint of red outlining his hunched figure.

Anderson landed on the ground superhero style on his left, and rose to his full height, withdrawing a pair of sharp bayonets, which were reflected in the overhead light along with his bared teeth, and silver rosary which dangled and swayed from his neck. He didn't need to say anything, his form said it all.

To his right, Police Girl had taken a bad fall, and with a shout, she belly-flopped on the right side of him. She picked herself up in an ungraceful manner, and held her hands up in a pseudo kung-fu pose.

"Fuck this", one of the vampires yelled. He turned, and ran for the open doorway out into the night without looking back.

"I'm out", another one yelled, and as he turned, the vampire next to him turned around as well, and they both sprinted for the cover of darkness.

That left only one. Before he could make a decision, however, his mind was made up for him, as a bayonet flashed through his head, leaving brain matter in its wake. The corpse fell flat on the ground.

Anderson stood back up to his full height, chuckling.

"You got one", he explained, "I got one. Fair's fair."

"Sure thing", Alucard told him. He turned around, facing the Remnant Warrior, and followed up with, "What isn't a sure thing is whether this guy is going to pull through."

"The", the man tried to say through ragged breaths, "the... the LORD... will... provide."

With that, he collapsed on the ground. Seras moved to help him, but Alucard threw out an arm to stop her in her tracks.

"Don't touch him", Alucard told her. "Chances are, you'll burst into flames."

Seras looked at him, bewildered.

"Really?!"

"How the fuck should I know", Alucard told her, and then turned to Anderson.

"Can't take that guy to a hospital."

"The smart and vengeful will be searching the registries, I know."

"You got a plan?"

"I've got people", Anderson told him, as he squatted down next to the Warrior. "And they're on their way. Which means you should get lost."

"Sound advice", Alucard echoed. He turned to Seras, saying, "Come on, Police Girl, let's get out of here _before_ we have to explain all of this to the police."

The two of them turned to leave, but a cough drew their attention. Seras turned all the way around, and Alucard looked back over his shoulder.

"The LORD... will bless you... for this", the man told Alucard.

Alucard looked at him for a long, tense moment. The humor was gone from his face. He stared icy daggers into the man's eyes, which he could barely see through the slits of his face shield.

"No He won't", Alucard finally told him. "He had the chance to bless me with a quick death five hundred years ago. And now I'm abandoned."

"You're wrong", the man choked out. "I see... a soul... amongst... your... vessel... blackened... though it... is."

Alucard continued to stare daggers at him, and finally told him, "You're seeing your own reflection. There's no soul in me. Certainly not one worth saving."

"Was... Rahab... not-"

"I don't give a fuck about a prostitute from Jericho", Alucard told him. "Take your Sunday School lesson and shove it."

With that, Alucard turned, and marched out of the warehouse, making his way towards the apartments. Seras, after a moment of looking down at the broken man who only moments ago had destroyed a monster from man's worst nightmare, stared at Alucard's back with tears in his eyes, turned and followed. Quietly, on the wind, Guns N' Roses' Civil War played.

And, as quietly as he could, Alucard mourned.


	8. Chapter 7: Hot on the Block

_Sometimes, the best thing you can do in a crisis situation is to do everything you would normally do like nothing is wrong. That was the tactic I took after the Turks released me from "prison". And eventually, I was able to strike such a debilitating blow to them that they reeled from it for years. All because I took them unaware; because I drew them out, not the other way around. Sound tactics are only useful if your enemy isn't expecting them, and if you act like everything's wrong, they're going to know that you're planning something. So relax, Jack; chill out while the earth crumbles around you. You'll find that it does you wonders._

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 7: Hot on the Block

As soon as the sun started coming up, Alucard woke up the Mercs and Seras.

"Get your shit together", Alucard told them. "We're going out."

"WHEN THE SUN'S OUT", Seras shouted. "WE'LL DIE!"

"Who told you that", Alucard asked.

"Well", Seras stuttered, "you know, _everyone_?!"

"Intellectual dumbass", Alucard tutted. "Don't listen to the Lame Stream Media so much. Sunlight doesn't kill vampires."

Seras looked at him for a moment.

"It doesn't?"

"Nope. Granted, we _own_ the night. Plenty of cover, night vision, you get it. But you're not weaker and you won't be killed outright by sunlight."

In fact, that had been the case not too long ago. The sunlight would at least _weaken_ a vampire's power, back when Dracula was in his prime. Even that wasn't too difficult to overcome; he still had his physical strength granted to him, including certain enhancements. Even today, the most that happened to him was that it became rather difficult to release his restraints to unleash his power.

So, he was still a super enhanced war machine. No loss there. And telling Seras that there would be no negative stats for her wouldn't affect her, given that she had no concept of power or its battlefield applications.

So, he gathered up his men, and prepared for an assault the enemy wouldn't soon forget. It would be one for the books, a practical application of the Crescent Moon strategy.

Draw 'em out, fuck 'em up.

The Turks had taught him this strategy towards the end of the Ten Years, and he had used it against them in warfare more than once. It was a simple strategy; position your forces for a weak attack, draw your enemy out to meet them, make a desperate retreat, and then pincer them with the superior forces you had waiting to either side of them. The formation on a medieval battlefield often resembled a large crescent, and since the crescent moon was on the Turk banner, it was quickly dubbed the "Crescent Moon maneuver".

And damn it if he wasn't going to use it to full effect today.

The anchor of the line would be an abandoned house he had scouted out while everyone had been sleeping. The weaker forces would consist of everyone in the room, and the superior forces... _well,_ he thought with a smile, _I'm about to take the Castle Law to a whole new level._

Crescent... crescent... croissant...

"Kwas-on", he said quietly, an evil grin spreading across his face.

"What was that", Pip asked, as he passed by him, bumping him slightly in the tight confines of the room.

"DAMNIT PIP", Alucard roared, "YOU ALMOST MADE ME DROP MY CROISSANT!"

...

Alucard told Pip to park the SUV over by the abandoned house, and then the group began trudging into the city proper. The sun was high in the sky, and the plan had finally been worked completely out. When they had all made it to a sleepy street, Alucard called for a halt.

"So, here's the plan", Alucard told the big group. "There's a bigass group of highly hypnotized retards with full retard loadouts. So, how do you deal with a big group of retards when you're a small group of retards? Spread out, play to your strengths."

Alucard pointed at the three Americans individually.

"You three fuckers all get to be one group."

He pointed to Pip and Seras.

"And you two get to be a group."

"What about you", Seras asked Alucard.

"Me", Alucard asked back. "Why, I'm a group all of my own! I'll be fine. In fact, before I forget", he said, leaning forward, and producing one of his .454's, and pushed it towards her. "You shouldn't need to use any more ammo than what's in the gun."

Seras looked hesitant. The last time she had taken a gun from him, he knew, she had killed an innocent man. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she doubted herself. She needed his guidance.

"I trust you", he told her. "Go ahead, take it."

She looked hesitantly for only a moment more. Then she took the gun from his hand, and tried to shove it into her waistband, tucking her shirt around it. It bulged quite obviously, but it was better than her being unarmed.

He backed up, asking, "So, if you were vacationing in the city here, where would you go?"

"I'd find Benjamin Franklin's grave", the Californian said, "and I'd take a shit on it."

"Geez, what'd he do to you?"

"He suggested daylight savings", the mid-westerner explained.

"Oh, ok", Alucard agreed. "Fuck him."

"Also, he was an all-around douchebag", the southerner piped up. "Dude had people carry him around on a throne like some kind of fat douchebag king."

"You know what", Alucard said, looking at the southerner, "from now on, you shall be known as Post Malone."

The southerner shrugged.

"Well, he _does _come from Texas."

"Really", Alucard said, surprised. "I would've never guessed."

"Then why Post Malone?"

"Because my grandma's probably heard of you", Alucard explained, "with history knowledge like that."

Post Malone shrugged again.

"Fair enough."

"Alright, so", Alucard affirmed, pointing at the American group, "grave defilers on point. Pip, Seras, where do_ you _want to go?"

Seras was quiet for a moment. After it seemed apparent that she wasn't going to answer, Pip spoke up.

"I've been interested in the history of this city ever since we got in it", Pip explained. "If it's alright with the madam, I'd like to see some of the house-museums they have around here."

Seras nodded her agreement.

"House museums? Really?"

"The big museum's cost money to get into."

"Fair enough. Then_ I _shall go out and find the best cheesesteaks in town", Alucard exclaimed.

"Oh, I see", the mid-westerner remarked.

"Got something to say, broke ass", Alucard quipped.

"So you're just not gonna get us cheesesteaks?"

"After it's all said and done" Alucard huffed. "But only if you pay with your _own money_!"

"I'm down", the Californian said.

"Same", Post Malone seconded.

"Willco", the mid-westerner thirded.

"Seems fair", Pip fourthed.

"I forgot my purse at home", Seras fifthed.

"Fine", Alucard said, deflated. "Now, scram!"

...

As the Americans went on their way to go shit on Benjamin Franklin's grave, Alucard went on his merry way to go find the best cheesesteak in Philidelphia, which, by terrorizing various crowds of people, he soon found came down to two separate places; either of which may have been in the Rocky movie, and both of which were rude, crass, and hated each other; Pat's King of Steaks, and Geno's Steaks.

More than likely, Pat's King of Steaks had been the place, but hey, who cared about specifics when you could argue forever and both get notoriety about it. Alucard made his way to Pat's first.

He knew almost immediately that he had reached the place when he heard shouting in Philly accents. When he came around his corner, he witnessed a sight to behold. A Karen was ordering some dumpy food from the guy behind the counter, and apparently, she wasn't big on respecting the Philly culture.

"Yes, hi, I would like a-"

"The fuck you mean you'd 'like'?! Are you here to like the food, or eat it?!"

"Exc-USE me?"

"You heard me with your lip implants. Either order your damn food, or get lost."

"I want to speak to your manager _immediately_!"

"I own this establishment. Beat it, lady."

The Karen turned white, and walked away without another word. Alucard's sharp teeth began to show beneath his curling lips. This was, beyond doubt, his kind of establishment.

Alucard moseyed on up, waiting in the line for a moment. When he got to the front, he said the famous line;

"Give me one with whiz, and with onions."

And just because he couldn't help but to start shit, he continued, "I've been wanting to say that ever since I saw Rocky!"

The guy behind the counter apparently heard that one a lot, so, while still making his cheesesteak, he commented, "When did you see Rocky?"

Now, as every Philadelphian knew, it was a mortal sin not to have been raised on Rocky, so this dickhead probably thought he was going to say ten years ago at least.

"How many hours ago was yesterday?"

This, of course, set the man to a tirade.

"Fuckin' cocksucka! You scumbag piece o' shit! Disgusting fucking abomination of... hey, did you want fries with that?"

"Do you do cheesefries?"

"Who the fuck do you think I am, mothafucka?! Do cows _do _milkmaking?! Do fish_ do_ swimming? Do cats _do_ sleeping?! Of course I _do_ cheesefries, smartass!"

After a long tirade, his food was done.

As the man pushed the vampire's stuff through the window, he mumbled, "Don't worry about the bill, man. It's not every day I get to bust someone's balls."

"I appreciate it", Alucard said with a heavy grin, and turned around, walking off to find a quiet place to eat his cheesesteak.

Eventually, he caught a whiff of Seras on the wind, and decided to figure out where she and Pip had gone to. He inconspicuously followed their scent, munching on cheesefries as he went. He eventually caught sight of them entering a small house-museum.

_Brokeass,_ he thought, as he sat down on a bench to munch on his sandwich. _Meh, it's ok, I guess._

As he began to piece together why it was so odd that they would go to a house-museum... and why this particular house looked familiar... a cold, wet cloth was pushed very roughly against his face. To Alucard, it smelled exactly like chloroform.

"Really, dude", he shouted through the sandwich in his mouth and the cloth on his face, "I _just_ took a bite and you're gonna go and knock me out right when I'm eating something? Where the fuck are your manners?! I'll have you know that I-"

With that, he passed out.

...

"Well, this one looks interesting", Pip said, pointing to a sign over a particular museum-house. "The Schutler Family and Philadelphia."

"I'm up for anything at this point", Seras remarked.

If she was being honest with herself, going and seeing a bunch of house-museums would have been the absolute _last_ thing she would want to do if she was on vacation. She hadn't been particularly interested in minor history, or even major history for that matter, as a living being, and as an undead one, she still didn't find it all that fascinating. That being said, Master had told her that she should research history, and she took that to mean _all_ history, no matter how small. If she could get a glimpse in the life of what was obviously an immigrant family in Philadelphia, maybe she could, by extension, learn where James Braid would have gone to hide.

And Pip was kind of handsome. In a rugged-hipster sort of way.

"Very well", Pip told her. "The Schutler Family it is!"

The two of them entered the small house together, and were immediately greeted by a very happy elderly woman. She immediately began directing them around the house, showing them to all of the high points of the Schutler family; how they stormed the beaches of Normandy at Dog Red during WWII, how they had worked in a steel mill until they had ascended the ranks to own it, how they had fought and died at Vietnam, and how they had come to America during the Great Depression because there was still more opportunity in America than in Germany.

Around that time, Pip glanced over at her, asking, "So... what about World War One?"

For a moment, the old lady didn't say anything. It seemed like she was suddenly rather hesitant.

"There's no need to be ashamed", Pip told her. "Everyone starts someone."

"Of course", the elderly lady told him. "Everyone starts a child, working their way through the world. I'll tell you, young man, you and your misses are very lucky to have each other!"

The color drained from Seras' face. She and Pip were most definitely _not_ a couple. In fact, she was about to say as much, when Pip put his arm around her.

"Indeed", Pip told her, "a lucky man I am!"

Seras stood as still as a statue, not having the slightest clue as to what to say.

"Ah", the old lady exclaimed. "You two are so adorable together! Well, how can I resist such a happy couple! Sure, I'll tell you the story of how the Schutler family faired during the Great War!"

She immediately took them over to a small closet, and began rummaging around in it until she produced a small suitcase. She opened it up, and produced a small black-and-white picture. On it were positioned several tough-looking men in German Imperial uniforms, with Stahlhelms on their heads, various crude-looking arms in their hands, including Gewehr's, MP-18's, Chauchats, swords, and even clubs, and in the center of them was a man in steel lobster-armor, a bag at his side with Stielhand grenades sticking out the top, with goggles on his head, another steel plate over the front of his helmet, and a big grin on his face. He seemed to be waving at the camera.

The woman pointed to the smiling, waving man in lobster-armor, saying, "This is Rudolph Schutler, my great-grandfather!"

But Seras' gaze wasn't focused on him. Next to Rudolph was a man with a large machinegun at his side, gleaming knight armor covering every inch of his body, minus his head, which had long hair flowing behind it, and a professional gaze covering a face that immediately reminded her of Ewan McGregor.

And next to him, with a wicked grin covering his face, was none other than Alucard.

He was unmistakable with his getup, the same red duster covering the gray two-piece, the same red tie on the same white shirt, the same glasses, even the same hat. The only difference was that the snow-white gloves on his hands were devoid of the ornate pentagrams he had on them now.

The old lady followed her gaze.

"Oh, that", she said with a smile. "that's Old Alucard."

"Oh", Seras said, trying not to let her voice shake. "I-is that s-so?"

"He's big and scary, I know", she said with a smile in her voice. "But he's gentle as a teddy bear."

After a moment of thought, the old lady commented, "Well, on the battlefield he wasn't. But I suppose, no man is."

"Oh, really", Pip asked, able to contain his shock better than Seras was.

"Papa Rudolph used to say... God rest his soul… that Old Alucard could have won the war by himself. He said that every Stormtrooper who ever saw him fight was in awe and swoon at his skill. That's what Papa Rudolph was, you know, a Stormtrooper, but he and the rest of the men in this picture, they were part of an elite team, one called an Extermination Force."

"Extermination Force, eh", Pip inquired. "What exactly were they exterminating?"

"Well", the old lady said, hesitation returning to her figure. "It's sort of silly to think about now, but... well..."

"Madam", Pip told her, "in all of my years as a mercenary, I have encountered things that people have claimed to be extinct or even myth altogether on quite a regular basis. Whatever you have to say, I will pass no judgement upon you or Papa Rudolph."

The old lady smiled big, and walked over to Seras, pinching her cheeks.

"What a lucky girl you are, to have such a gentleman saddled with you!"

Seras didn't like her cheeks being pinched, but for the old lady's sake, she tolerated it.

"Well, Papa Rudolph... well, it might just be a mistranslation, but he said that... they were fighting vampires, who were hell-bent on taking over the world, and were aligned with the British Empire."

Pip nodded, saying, "The German word for Vampire is Vampir, so I doubt it was a mistranslation. Maybe a misinterpretation, but it's hard to tell a soldier who saw a battle with his own eyes what he did and didn't see. Therefore, with greatest respect to you, Papa Rudolph, and your family name", Pip smiled, "I believe that Papa Rudolph was telling the truth."

The old lady smiled wide. Tears began brimming in her eyes.

And then her face exploded.

Seras screamed as blood splashed over her face, and Pip automatically reached for his 1911. By the time he had it yanked out of the holster, he had identified three men in black uniforms, carrying suppressed handguns. One of them was adjusting his aim towards Seras. He wouldn't be able to adjust his own aim in time to kill him.

Half of his own head disappeared in a red spray, as Seras, who had the .454 in her hand, and had a red gleam in her eyes, screamed, "HOW DARE YOU!"

Pip reached out his arm, grabbing her shoulder, pulling her out of harm's way, as he unloaded his 1911, hitting one of the men twice. Pip dragged Seras towards what looked like a back door, and threw his shoulder into it, sending it crashing off of its hinges, and onto the street below. He jumped over the three steps, landing right into the street. Bullets whizzed right over his head, and he snapped his 1911 up, wildly returning fire into roughly the direction of where the fire had come from. By then, his magazine was empty, and he dropped it for another one, ripping it out of a velcro pouch, and smashing it into the magwell.

Seras jumped out of the door behind him, and fired the .454 twice. Pip heard someone scream down the alley, but he didn't look up. He had found a good spot of cover, a small brick wall, and he dashed towards it, hiding behind it. He turned his head to see if Seras was behind him, and to his surprise, he felt her press up behind him. He turned to see that she had curled up next to him, with a somewhat terrified look on her face.

Pip stood up, looking over the small wall. Directly in front of them, several more walls hid their assailants, and behind them, the alley deadended in the Schutler house. Their only way out was to fight through the enemy.

"What kind of asshole designs an alley like this", Pip grumbled, as he ducked back down, narrowly avoiding enemy fire.

...

Alucard woke up quick. Of course, he was in a makeshift ambulance, on a stretcher, with the straps covering him. He could hear at least two people rummaging around near him. He couldn't feel his hat over his head, despite the fact that he still had his glasses on, but he _could_ feel the cold steel of his .454 pressed against him, and he knew that they had fucked up.

They had fucked up regardless, but they had really fucked up this time.

He snapped the restraints and sat straight up.

Given these two men's reaction, they were not hypnotized. They stood like deer in headlights, staring at him, clearly never having prepared for him to be awake and alert.

"'Forgetting something", Alucard asked, withdrawing his .454.

"Oh, shi-"

The guy who was talking's face repositioned itself onto the wall behind him, along with everything inside of it. The other guy, obviously the smarter of the two, turned and jumped out the door. He wasn't fast enough.

Two more shots sent him careening out the back of the ambulance with lances of blood following him. It splashed to the ground in front of him, and he fell to the ground, mouth agape, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

This, of course, elicited screams from passersby's out in public, and a few ballsy people whipped their phones out to record the proceedings. Alucard didn't care. People were more likely to dismiss it as fake anyway, and it was only going to get on the LiveLeak side of the web after what he was about to do.

He stood up, hopped off the stretcher, and stepped down, calmly, out of the ambulance. He started a calm, steady pace towards the house museum that his apprentice had disappeared into, sensing that she was in trouble. As he passed by the dying man, he put another round into the back of his head, splashing blood and brain matter all over the ground in front of him, and drawing more screams from the crowd.

Ignoring the screaming onlookers, Alucard walked calmly into the house.

Upon clearing the doorframe, he glanced up at the large clock situated above the archway leading to the living room.

"It's about noon", Alucard thought out loud.

His gaze turned towards a group of black-clad operators that lay at his feet. Then his eyes drifted towards the old lady crumpled on the floor, and his gaze softened. _That_ was why the house was so familiar. It was the house of the Schutler family.

Rudolph's babies.

It wasn't like he had sworn an oath to defend them, but he still felt guilty seeing that body on the ground. He didn't know if he should do anything to the body, or say something gushy, but everything he thought of didn't feel right. Eventually, he just decided to walk away. It was just another chapter in his long book closed.

Gunshots coming from the back of the house snapped his attention around to the back door. He moved swiftly in that direction, and when he made it to the doorframe, he beheld a sight beyond it that made his teeth cringe. The alley ahead of him deadended, with small... what he could only describe as brick "fins" coming off the sides of the alley forming little lots.

"What kind of asshole builds an alley like this", Alucard muttered.

Alucard swept the alley with his eyes, looking around at where everyone was. Behind the fin closest to him, Seras and Pip were crouched down. The three other fins beyond that were occupied by people who were obviously trying to kill them, judging by the gunfire.

The people in the first fin began to shift their fire towards the doorframe, and simultaneously, Pip stood up to take shots at them. Alucard raised his .454 and turned the three men behind the first fin into blood stains on the ground behind them. Pip, overwhelmed by confusion, examined his 1911.

"Master", Seras cried out, at the sight of Alucard walking up towards them.

A shot rang out, and blood splashed out of Alucard's back. Without flinching, he quickly turned, and blasted the offender's head off of his shoulders. The others began to get the idea and ducked their whole bodies down behind the fins.

Pip, raising an eyebrow, asked Alucard, "So, how did you get here so fast?"

"Oh, you know", Alucard told him dismissively, "just thought I had to be in Compton soon."

"Huh", Pip asked.

_Ah_, Alucard remembered. _He's French. He doesn't know about that gude shite._

"I've gotta get drunk before the day begins", Alucard muttered.

"Sorry", Seras asked.

"EAT SHIT AND DIE, MOTHERFUCKERS", one of the dickwads from the other fins shouted, and he threw a small orb towards the group.

"Yoink", Alucard said, as he swiped it out of the air.

Pip pointed towards the orb, stuttering and sputtering, and as soon as she figured out what it was, Seras did too.

"So", Alucard told them, casually tossing the grenade in the air and catching it, "you all probably want to get out of here, right? Here's the plan; Pip, go run off and find your butt-buddies; Police Girl, you come with me, and we can do some more sightseeing!"

He tossed the grenade over his shoulder, proclaiming, "Yeet!"

The grenade exploded in the air above the rearmost fin, and no one got up to prove that they had survived. With that, Alucard motioned the two back into the house. They stashed their weapons and quickly exited out the front, Seras with Alucard, and Pip darting off to find his men.

Out front of the house, a camera crew had begun setting up... which was quite odd of them to do before they had police protection, but that was the least of his concerns. He and Seras had to get lost before Mom started bitching.

When they had made it a safe distance past the onlookers, they began to walk at a more inconspicuous pace. Alucard removed his glasses and put them in a pocket in his coat. Seras took note of this but didn't ask about it. If Alucard was doing something... well, to quote Pip, he must have "his reasons".

It reminded her, momentarily, of the gun stuffed in her pants. She produced it as subtly as she could and passed it to Alucard. Alucard took it from her hands, pulled the magazine out of it, and put a full one into the well. Then he passed it back.

"Oh, I", Seras hesitated, "I don't need it."

"Yes you do", he said without any humor in his voice.

She quietly took the gun from his hand, stuffing it back into her pants. They walked along in silence for a while, Seras wondering why Alucard had suddenly put so much faith in her, and Alucard wondering if he could find tacos that were half-decent in this city.

"We're being followed", Alucard calmly told her. "Don't look."

Of course, Seras turned her head to look behind her. Behind them was a fairly strong and nasty looking man following at a small distance. Muscles bulged beneath his jacket, and he had two long scars across his face. Seras couldn't see any weapons on him, but she could guess that he had some.

"I said don't look, dummy!"

She turned back immediately.

"Here's the plan; split up, pincer him."

"How-"

"Go", Alucard said, and disappeared down an alley.

A bewildered Seras looked around, and found another alleyway to duck into, and immediately raced into it. She briefly looked up, noticing that she couldn't see the sun anymore, even though the sky was still full and bright... so, it had to be sometime after two o' clock.

She glanced towards a small dumpster, filled to the brim with trash bags, wondering if she could maybe hide behind it and ambush the man following her and Master. She wrinkled her nose as the smell began wafting towards her, but as soon as she allowed her eyes to wander, she caught a sight that made her freeze. Towards the end of the dumpster, a pair of red eyes stared at her. These eyes were in a pale white head, which ended in a shock of blond hair. If this thing was standing at its full height, it was no more than two and a half feet tall.

The eyes were simply staring, doing nothing more than observing, communicating no other emotions than intrigue. Seras felt like she couldn't look away, as if her gaze was held to those eyes like metal to magnets. Her body felt frozen in time, unable to move itself, so long as that gaze held her.

A tapping sound from behind broke her concentration, and she spun around to see what it was. At the end of the alleyway stood the guy who had been following them, a long, wickedly curved knife in his hands, tapping against the wall to his right. For a moment, Seras glanced back at the dumpster, seeing if those eyes were still there. They were gone.

"I'll give you two choices", the man at the end of the alleyway said, snapping her attention back to him. "I can open you up like this", the man said, pulling a finger across his throat, "or I can open you up like this", the man ended with a motion that Seras was fairly certain mimed him unzipping his pants.

A wave of nausea suddenly swept over Seras. Her disgust must have been visible to the man at the end of the alleyway, because he seemed to revel in it, his grin growing wider. He took a step forward, and as he did so, Seras reached for the gun in her pants.

A figure swept up behind the man, grabbed him by his head, and began repeatedly smashing it into the wall next to him. It was so sudden and so violent that Seras almost didn't recognize it as the actions of her Master. When the man's face had been completely painted on the wall, Alucard finally let him fall to the ground, huffing through teeth that were clenched in a snarl.

After a moment of him standing like that, rage seething from him, he closed his eyes, and sealed his lips back up. He opened his eyes again, a surprisingly calm demeaner washing over him. He turned his gaze towards Seras.

"I hate rapists", he told her, almost as if he felt he needed to explain his actions.

He put on his wicked grin once more, but Seras was beginning to believe it wasn't as genuine as she had once thought. Alucard advanced towards her, and behind him, Pip had arrived with all three Americans, alive and well. She began to allow herself a smile. Things were looking up.

The sound of a can rolling on the roof brought her attention up. On the roof overlooking Alucard was a tiny figure, in a little white dress, with pale skin and shockingly blonde hair.

The little girl jumped down from the roof, and landed squarely on Alucard's back.

"AGH", Alucard yelled, "get her off me!"

He began flailing his limbs and shaking his body, trying to rid himself of the small child. Seras, in a blind panic, yanked the .454 out of her waistband. Over Alucard's shoulder, she could see the Americans and Pip training their weapons.

But it was too late; the little creature raised her head, and sank her fangs into Alucard's neck.

Alucard seized up, a stricken expression on his face.

For a heart-stopping moment, Seras truly believed that Alucard, her Master, had died. She didn't know, and couldn't even begin to grasp, the rules of his powers and lives. If another vampire bit him, and drained him of his blood, would that be enough to kill him?

This train of thought caused her to hesitate.

Alucard's face went slack, the grin reappearing. He parted his lips, and lolled his tongue out of his mouth, making the same sound a child would to make to signal death in a game of pretend. The small vampire child on his back released her bite, and proudly held her head up, squeezing her eyes tight to make way for the huge smile that graced her face.

"I got you, daddy!"

"You sure did, Alley", Alucard said, reaching his arm around to grasp her around the waist, and turning her around so he could cradle her.

Seras was still trying to process what was happening in front of her. Alucard, taking note of that, gently chuckled.

"I'm unoriginal with names, sue me."

When Seras' eye began twitching, and her gun wouldn't lower, he said, in a calm, commanding voice, "Put the gun away, Police Girl. You got the bad guy."

"Yeah, Police Girl", Alley, the small child, echoed. "I already won! That means you lose! So you can't hurt me!"

"Impeccable logic, little one", Alucard affirmed, holding up his hand for a high-five. Upon receiving one, he pumped his fist in victory, his grin growing wider.

Finally, Seras had fired the brain synapses to speak.

"DADDY?!"

"Yes, child", Alucard asked mockingly.

The child wrapped her arms around Alucard's neck, a smug grin spreading across her face.

Pip was the first one to voice what was truly on everyone else's mind.

"What the fuck?"

"Hey, watch your language", Alucard chastised. "There's a child here!"

"Yeah, ya big meanie", Alley echoed.

"She... that", Seras stuttered, pointing towards Alley, "that's... your..._daughter?_"


	9. Chapter 8: Little Miracles

_My father _hated _me. And not in the "I'm gonna beat the shit out of that kid for smashing my TV" sense, more like the "I wish your mother had died before she had you" sense. Naturally, I developed a sort of hatred for him right back. I guess that's how I got started hating secret societies; my father was part of the infamous Order of the Dragon, a not-Christian "Christian" secret society that designated it's members as "Draco's"...in fact, that's where I got my ill-fated nickname from. Needless to say, I hate the fuckers... and now I get to annihilate them for fun. Who says miracles don't happen?_

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 8: Little Miracles

"Surrogate", Alley corrected, a frown creasing her adorable face.

"S-sorry", Seras asked.

"Surrogate daughter", Alucard clarified. "She needed someone to keep her alive. I was the only one around."

"You're the best, daddy", Alley told him with a smile.

"Oh, I don't know about_ that_", Alucard told her with a similar smile. "I think_ you're_ the best!"

With that, Alley squirmed out of Alucard's hands, and began running circles around him, chanting, "Daddy, daddy, you're the best!"

Alucard grabbed her up and began tickling her, saying, "No,_ you're_ the best!"

Seras' eye twitched as she watched her normally rude, disrespectful, impassionate Master play with a small child like she was the most wonderful thing in the world. She had never seen him devote time, energy, or effort into something on his own willingly, yet here he was, playing with this small child as if she were his own. Her brain was doing mental gymnastics trying to wrap itself around this concept.

"Um, so", the southerner spoke up, "this is your daughter?"

"Look", Alucard told him, "I'll explain everything later, alright?"

"Yeah, be patient", the small child echoed with a giggle, as she jumped up onto Alucard's back. "Let's go to England, daddy!"

"Oh, I'd love to take you home, sweetheart", Alucard told her, with a trace of sincerity in his voice. He sighed, and his pitched dropped to a mellow and melancholy level he hadn't used before. "But you know the rules."

"No siring children", Alley echoed with a similar melancholy. "And they wouldn't believe you if you said you hadn't."

"I got locked away for it before", Alucard reminded her, with that same melancholy tone. "You remember how long that lasted?"

"Almost thirty years", she echoed. Tears began brimming in her eyes. "It was a long thirty years."

"But I'm back now", Alucard told her, excitement returning to him, "and I plan on staying for a little while!"

"Yay! Vacation", she shouted.

Alucard threw his head back and bellowed laughter.

"Yeah", Alucard said, "a real vacation!"

Almost as soon as he was done with his sentence, he began to hear sirens off in the distance; ambulance, not police.

Very odd.

"That reminds me", Alucard thought out loud, "right now actually isn't a very good time for us to be around you."

Alley made a pouty face but offered no further resistance. Clearly, she understood whatever situation they were in was over her head.

"You remember the drill", Alucard said, as he knelt down next to her.

"I know, I know", Alley responded with an exacerbated huff. "Lay low, stay out of sight, run if there's trouble."

"I will find you if I need to", Alucard finished, "_and_ when this is over."

She ran up to him and hugged him around the neck. He gently returned her hug.

"We _will_ come back", Alucard told her gently. He grew a smug smirk, adding, "So long as you stay alive, of course."

She released her hug, and gently booped the ancient vampire on his long nose.

"I'm more worried about _you_ not coming back", she said, in an honest and straightforward way that only children could.

"I will", Alucard told her, reassuringly. "I promise."

"Cross your heart", Alley asked, as she used her finger to trace a Christian cross over her heart.

Alucard gave her a toothy grin, saying, "And hope to live."

Alley threw her arms around his neck one more time, and then turned, dashing further down into the alleyway. For a moment, Alucard didn't move, staying stock-still in his kneeling position. Then he nodded, and stood up, dusting himself off.

"No questions", he told the group present. "I'll explain everything later."

With that, he quickly walked out of the alleyway, into the brightness of the lowering sun. The rest of the group blankly followed behind him, wondering if he would make good on his promise of an explanation, or if this incident would be chocked up as another "wacky adventure".

Alucard led the group back towards the area where the news reporters had set up in front of the Schutler house. Motioning for the others to stay back, Alucard muscled his way through the small crowd that had gathered around the "news anchors", who Alucard was fairly certain were a bunch of brainwashed followers. James Baird was still thinking like he was back in his prime. The media would find some way to cover this up today.

He listened to what the anchor was making up for a moment, just to find a good opportunity to ruin it.

"A shooter is on the run after murdering an elderly woman inside this house you see behind me", the anchor told the camera, "the house-museum of-"

"When", a voice shouted from the crowd.

"Oh, um, earlier today-"

Alucard pushed through the crowd, snatched the microphone away, and yelled, "WHEN DID I ASK?!"

The cameraman began shaking the camera, trying to get him out of the frame. Alucard advanced on him, grabbing the lens of it, and pushing it into his face, so that whoever was watching could see his large grin.

"I know you're watching, false king of the city", Alucard said. "I hereby challenge you for the crown. If you find my car before midnight, it's a duel! Otherwise, I got shit to do. In other words, be there or be square, bitch!"

Alucard dropped the mic and walked back into the crowd like nothing happened. He returned to his group of people, and motioned them all to follow him, back in the direction of where they had parked the car. The confused group of humans and vampire followed behind him, uncertain about the road that lay ahead.

The intrepid figures made their way out through the city, and up to the abandoned house that served as their final rally point. As the sun began making its way towards the ground, Alucard had the Americans help him roll a hefty dose of freedom up towards the door, and then suggested that they take a break by running into town and grabbing cheesesteaks... on the company card, of course.

"In fact, while you're heading in his direction", Alucard suggested, "why don't you take that smelly Frenchman along? Maybe he can sniff out all of the wineries that I'll be raiding tomorrow. Better yet, why don't you all get stuck in that good shit 'til the sun comes up?"

Mercs tended to understand when they were being told to fuck off. Furthermore, they tended to respond to it rather graciously. As the three Americans made their way towards the door, Post Malone tapped Pip on the shoulder, and flashed him the company card. With that, the four of them left the building.

Which left Seras and Alucard alone in this abandoned house together.

Seras, mildly uncomfortable with that notion after the events of earlier in the day, immediately showed her apprehension when Alucard sat down on a ruined couch that looked like it was caked in dust, and patted the seat next to him. She gingerly stepped forward, as Alucard crossed his left leg over his right one, allowing his grin to fade from his face.

She made her way slowly to the open seat, brushing off the dust, and taking her assigned position. For a long, still moment, Alucard remained silent. Seras began fidgeting, wondering if she was about to get answers, or just more "tips". With a disgusting startle, she realized that Alucard's "tips" could well be another one of his dumb sexual innuendos. She decided to derail that train of thought as Alucard drew in a breath.

And he started to chuckle.

"The more I let you loose, the more you amaze me."

Seras was surprised by what she was hearing. She turned to look at her master with a bewildered expression. In response, he grinned.

"You've proved that you're capable of surviving for extended periods without me today, in that firefight you got yourself into. Even though I did save your ass at the end, there, you still had the most kills out of you and Pip. But killing isn't everything; hell,_ survival_ Isn't everything. Being able to thrive in a situation like that could be the difference between life and death. By the aggression you demonstrated in your first contact, I'd say you're well on your way to becoming a thriving operative in the field."

"How did you know", Seras asked, floored that he knew so much.

Alucard entertained the thought of telling her that he had literally just asked Pip for a debriefing a few hours ago, but keeping the mystery alive was far more amusing.

"I have my ways", Alucard told her devilishly. "That's not important; what _is_ important is that you need to learn to cultivate that anger, and use it to your advantage."

"Oh... well... thank you", Seras told him. For a moment, she seemed like she had a question to ask him. She wringed her hand like it was a Turk's neck. Eventually, she worked up the courage to say, "Why did you save that man?"

"Who, Pip", Alucard asked. "I wouldn't really say I _saved_ him; I mean, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"I mean-"

"In all reality, if it came down to it, if Pip and Mussolini were drowning in a kiddie pool, and I _had_ to save one of them, I'd save Mussolini."

"Oh... I... what I meant was-"

"Actually, if I were in a room with Joseph Stalin, Adolf Hitler, Pip, and I had a gun that only had two bullets in it, I would shoot Pip in the balls twice, just to make sure that if he survived being shot in the balls, he wouldn't be able to spread his filthy genes around."

"That's not who I'm talking about."

Alucard lifted an eyebrow, saying, "Well, then spill it, woman! Who did I save that made your noggin get a-joggin'?"

"That man in that warehouse", Seras told him. "The one that Anderson showed us."

"Oh", Alucard said neutrally, processing how he should take this conversation.

Technically, he could start it off under religious context. He could argue that God made his servants look appealing to everyone, including their enemies, like the Roman officer who walked James, son of Zebedee, up to the beheading block, only to turn around and kneel before the executioner, asking to be beheaded as a Christian. He could make it a personal argument. For most of his life, he had fought to defend good men like him. Old habits died hard.

Instead, he decided to make the argument a practical one.

"He's useful", he told Seras. "The guy's going around annihilating vampires and giants alike. Less work for me."

That didn't feel right at all. An argument could be made that Alucard had been wasting his energies, considering the man was as close to death as could be whilst still being on his feet. But the real kicker was that Alucard hadn't done it for practical reasons. He_ respected_ the man, damnit. The dude had decapitated a giant with a chainsaw like he had been auditioning as Doomguy, and he did it all without any special powers or even magic. And after it had all been said and done, the man continued to stand and fight against evil, despite the fact that he had been so heavily wounded that Anderson had texted him that he had slipped into a coma almost the instant he had gotten into the underground Iscariot hospital that had opened up for him. Frankly, Alucard was surprised that the man could walk at all with his massive balls weighing him down like that.

But admitting that might put him at risk of being in category one, which would mean that Alucard was nothing but a puppet to the wills of people who were smarter and bigger than him. He had been that way once, oh so long ago, and now he regretted it. He didn't want to live out the rest of his death with regrets.

Seras didn't seem to like that answer either. She shrank down, seeming to completely deflate at his answer, almost as if she had had a personal stake in his response.

"Then what about Alley?"

Alucard was about to answer when his phone buzzed. He whipped it out like a champ, the screen showing Seras a simple message from someone named Sir Haggis: *Kill = Break*

He gave a large grin in response to that. Seras watched as he typed back, *Thnx BB luv u XOXOXOXO*

Sir Haggis almost immediately typed back, *SUCK MY DICK YOU CRACK WHORE*

Alucard flipped his phone closed, and returned it to his pocket, chuckling.

"What did you ask again?"

"WHAT ABOUT ALLEY" Seras practically screamed.

Alucard was taken aback by her response. He hadn't seen her get really angry about anything outside of people killing people she cared about. What was making her so upset?

"I'm not molesting her or anything", Alucard said in a serious tone.

"That's not what I mean", Seras said, a wave of disgust coursing across her face.

"Then what_ do_ you mean?"

"What's the role she plays in all of this?"

"Her... role", Alucard asked. Truth be told, she didn't_ really_ have a role in any of it. She was an innocent victim. She was just... there. "I... guess she feeds me information."

"An_ informant_", Seras sounded aghast. "She's an_ informant_ for you?!"

"Just for general things", Alucard told her.

"You're_ disgusting_", Seras hissed through clenched teeth.

"Disgusting", Alucard said in disbelief, standing up from the couch. "Me? Disgusting? Why?"

Seras shook her head.

"Why am I disgusting? What am I missing here?"

Seras only shook her head in response, her face contorted into a look of anger. Alucard sighed. Women could be so_ difficult_.

_Can't live with them, can't live without them,_ his dad crowed in the back of his mind. Alucard pushed that thought away in disgust. He had lived without the touch of a woman in his life until 1921, thank you very fucking much, and he would continue to live unmarried for the rest of his... death.

For some reason, that thought stopped him in his tracks. He had lived for so long without someone to share this adventure with, and more than likely, he would continue to do so for eternity.

Because the only person he wanted to share his life with wanted him dead.

He_ really _wanted to stop this train of thought.

"Seras, why am I disgusting?"

"If you don't know now, you never will."

"Oh, donkeyfuck. I've heard that before. Each time I hear it, it sounds dumber."

"You're just", Seras cut herself off by holding up her hands and shaking her head.

Alucard waited for a reasonable and logical response, becoming angrier with each passing moment. Why wouldn't she just explain to him what she saw? Why couldn't she just tell him how to better himself? He had needed that advice oh so long ago, and apparently, he needed it now. Why wouldn't she just...

Alucard glanced up at a broken window, taking note of the fact that darkness had fallen upon the world. That snapped him out of his thoughts. If James was fast, he would be here soon.

"You better go", Alucard told Seras, "it's about to get ugly here."

"It's always bloody ugly here", she commented sourly, standing up from the couch.

Alucard chose to ignore that comment.

"I recommend you go back to the room Anderson gave us. It's a Vatican safehouse, technically. It's about as safe as you could get." Alucard paused for a moment, and then told her, "Or you can go somewhere else. It's a free country! You can do whatever you want."

"Can I come back to life?"

…

"Yeah, I didn't think so", Seras remarked.

With that, she stormed out of the house, leaving Alucard alone again.

...

James led his little sortie through the neighborhood, avoiding streetlights and porch lights. He knew that Alucard's challenge had implied that it was a one-on-one duel, but after what he had done with his first group, he wasn't about to take him on alone.

He had brought an extra fifty men, most of them experienced warfighters, all of them armed to the teeth. He had heard that copper bullets worked best on vampires, so they were all loaded with the expensive solid copper bullets that were becoming increasingly rare to find. This had not been a cheap sortie, but it would be worth it. The police were already in his back pocket, so once Alucard died by his hand, no one would question his hold on Philidelphia, not the satanists, not other vampires, not even those damned Remnant.

As they advanced forwards, it became increasingly clear that the neighborhood was sleeping soundly. Hopefully, a prolonged firefight wouldn't wake them up quickly enough to intervene. He knew that sometimes Americans could be hyper-vigilant. And the fact that they had ready access to firearms made things much more difficult for him.

But he persevered, and that was why he would win.

Finally, they quietly reached the old abandoned house that one of his scouts had seen the car next to. The car wasn't there anymore, but that meant nothing at all. Maybe Alucard just wanted to have a nice strole out of here when he won.

IF he won.

It was fifteen minutes 'til midnight, so technically, the duel was still on. It being so late, he hoped that Alucard was packing up, getting ready to call it a night, and go do whatever else he considered important. The element of surprise, he figured, was on their side.

James motioned for one of his men to open the door, and search for Alucard. The man flipped a pair of night vision goggles down over his face, and quietly pushed the door open. James was amazed at how silent the door was, especially after all this time of being neglected.

The plan was that if his man was killed, or if he spotted Alucard, James would signal for his men to open fire on the house, shredding it with AP rounds first, then finding the shattered remains of Alucard, so they could pump him full of copper, and lay a silver cross on his chest. Then they would get the hell out of there before people started waking up.

The man looked around for a moment, and then crept his way into the house. James held his breath for what felt like hours. After five minutes, his man popped back out of the door, giving an "ok" symbol with his hands.

Confused, James decided to take a look for himself. He swept through the door quietly, and noticed almost immediately that he was in a choke point, with two walls closing him in for the first two feet. He also noticed immediately that he was staring down the barrel of a fifteenth century cannon. The third thing he noticed was the glint of moonlight reflected off wickedly sharp teeth.

"Hey, James", Alucard said through a thick grin, "vibe check."

James turned to sprint out of the house, but a boom from behind saw him flying in multiple pieces out of the house.

His hypnotized followers stood in awe for a quiet moment. Then, one by one, they seemed to wake up, throwing down their weapons, and running away. A few of them began looking around, confused. None of them fired on Alucard as he made his way out of the house; in fact, the man who had searched the house saluted Alucard as he walked past him to stand directly over James' decrepit body.

He had loaded the cannon with heavy grape shot, turning the giant cannon into what was essentially a four-gauge shotgun. It had put multiple baseball-sized holes into James' back, and making similar exit wounds through his chest, since cast-iron didn't tend to warp like lead did. His left arm had been completely severed, the appendage sitting nearly ten feet away from him, and his right hand had only two fingers left on it, the other two now bloody stumps. One ball had grazed his left cheek, tearing his skin off, letting blood dribble down his face. Alucard could smell that his life was now being measured in seconds.

Alucard put his glasses back on, removed a small plastic button from his coat pocket, and pressed it.

The button chimed out, "That was easy."

Alucard tossed the button over his shoulder, and began to walk away.

"Wait", James choked out from the ground behind him.

Alucard turned an uninterested gaze on him.

"You weren't hypnotized... the watch didn't work the first time", he said. "Why?"

"Why didn't I kill you?"

"N-"

"Simple; if I were to kill you, and that cursed item still had a hold on everyone you brainwashed, then I would have had to work harder to find all of your little sheeple. But I had a good friend of mine look into it; a friend that I've been texting for the past day or so. Alexander Anderson, ever heard of him? Well, he knows his shit, and he knows where that little watch comes from. Turns out, it's registered in a Heretical Artifacts catalog run by the Vatican. He crunched some numbers, and he said that if I killeds ya, everyone who followed you would be broken of their spell. Seems he was right."

"What", James said, giving a violent cough, "what stopped me from hypnotizing you?"

Alucard shrugged, saying nonchalantly, "Experience."

He turned to walk away.

"It's that thing", James hissed, "it's that thing I smell on you!"

Alucard cocked his head, and removed his Wallachian sword from its sheath.

"What, this thing", Alucard said, letting the blade glisten in the moonlight. "I don't think so."

In truth, what he held in his hand was an enchanted item; whereas whoever had owned the watch before James had more than likely sacrificed someone to curse his pocket watch... or maybe several someone's, with how stanky that thing was... Alucard had had a ritual performed on his sword, oh so long ago, that could break any curse... at a hefty price.

Back then, he didn't love anybody, and nobody loved him, so it would have been safe to bind a loved ones' death to a broken curse. Now, he did have someone he loved... immensely... so there was no use for the dumbass enchantment anyhow. He sheathed the sword.

"It's got different purposes", Alucard told him. "Anything else you want to bother me about before you croak?"

"Does... does it burn?"

"Does what burn?"

"H...Hell..."

With that, James deflated, his body becoming still, and his eyes glassing over.

"Night night, dipshit", Alucard told the corpse, as he strode off into the darkness.

**A/N: Celebrating 454 people actually taking the time to read this shit is a mind-blowing concept. But... here we are. Thanks, everyone, for your continued support and appreciation! I know things seem crazy right now, but hold on to your horses, because we aren't even halfway down this trail!**

**A/N 2: Recently, I lost a follower. I'm a bit pissed about it. But instead of being mopey, I'm going to give you all some bonus content here in a chapter or two, a rough draft for a now abandoned chapter called The Mole People, staring Anderson and Alucard. I just couldn't find a good place for it in the story, but it made me too satisfied to delete it. So, after fluffing it up and editing it a little, I'll be releasing it as a standalone short story within this one. Shortly as in within the month, as thanks to all of you who stuck around. It'll probably come with a word or two from Pootis McTootis himself. But it'll definitely feature Alucard and Alexander Anderson getting back-to-back, in a badass way.**

**A/N 3: I just found out that the actual round would be a .455, not a .454. I've corrected that, because fuck you, Kouta Hirano, witchyo goshdarn thirteen references**

**A/N 4: Disregard A/N 3: Turns out, .454 Casull is an actual round... however, it's so outrageously big that it's used exclusively in revolvers. The optics of using it in an automatic handgun are just... I mean, you think the barrel's long in the anime? It'd have to be that long just to fit a spring big enough to stop it from flying apart with every shot. And the grip? Alucard's hand would have to be as big as a freakin' dinner plate just to fit around it. But... it's a real round, and if you're smart enough you can make anything usable, so I'll give it to Walter, and concede that Alucard's gun is, in fact, a .454. Seras' Harkonnen will shoot 12.7, however, because fuck Kouta Hirano. Although, that particular rifle won't be making an appearance in this fic, because it would have been a pain and a half to break it all down and get it past airport security.**


	10. Intermission Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

Pootis McTootis was sat in his Laz-E-Ass chair, playing Custer's Revenge on the brand new XBox 720, continually being annihilated, because he sucked at video games. The zero-point-eight-year-old took his controller, and yeeted that sonofabitch out the nearest window, a look of complete serenity on his face the entire time. He sat quietly in his chair, looking at the floor, as sad music played nearby.

Suddenly, through the power of friendship, he sensed the eyes of the audience upon him, and looked up, a small smile growing across his face.

"Oh, hello", he said to the audience. "I didn't see you there! It's probably because I don't have my monocle on."

He proceeded to pat himself down, looking for his monocle, only to remember that he keistered it whenever he gamed to keep himself on his toes. He removed it from the old prison wallet, and placed it over his eye. For a moment, he still looked blind, and the world looked brown, but a quick swipe of the handkerchief fixed that. Happy once again, he turned to address the audience.

"Hello, again", he said joyously. "As you know-"

His monocle picked this time to fall off his face again.

"Motherfucker", he said disheartenedly. "I just need to gorilla glue that sucker to my face, I guess."

He returned the monocle to his face, and returned his gaze to the audience.

"Alright, now then", he said, clearing his throat. "As you know, I recently said some very upsetting things about losing a follower. Now, I'm still salty about that shit, mostly because they fucked off without telling me why they were unhappy, which is the number one cause of wars. The number two cause, as you all well know, is ignoring the critiques of others, and the number three cause is, of course, fighting over which member of BTS is most fuckable in a Trap sense."

He reached over to his small coffee table, and retrieved his opium hookah, drawing a long trail of smoke into his lungs, and releasing it with the same general sound that a puffer fish would make if you fed them a carrot. He returned his attention to the audience, continuing.

"However, I am happy to report that since then, I have gained not only another follower, but also a multitude of comments concerning things that people find right, wrong, and generally confusing in my content. And frankly, I'm quite glad for it. Thank you all so much for your continued support, despite my-"

The sound of a dog barking outside drew his attention. After a moment, a gunshot sounded. Then, silence.

"Must be the ATF", he concluded. He cleared his throat, ending with, "-self."

He reached over to his coffee table again, and produced a small book, pulling it closer to him. He squinted hard, but couldn't make anything out on it. After a moment, he pulled his spectacles out of his pocket, and set them up over his monocle.

"Ah, yes. Some of the comments that I have been getting. I generally address my responses directly to the commenter, but a few in particular keep coming up, and one really caught my eye, that I would like to expand on in a broader sense."

He glanced down at the book, and then said, "One of them that I have received more than once is about Alley, Alucard's 'daughter'. Her story, I intend to unravel rather slowly, so I won't get into the questions themselves, or give broad answers to them as of yet; just know that, for now, answers will be sparse, but if you stick with me, they will appear. I know, I know, you're thinking, 'But Pootis McTootis, that's just a stupid gimmick done by stupid authors to keep an audience coming when they feel like they can't write content that's good enough to hold an audience's attention on its own.' Well, uh, yeah, that's like the whole point. Good things come to those who wait and all that shit. Don't worry, you'll get your answers... and then some."

"I will leave you with this, though... at least one person was rather disappointed that Alley was a "surrogate", instead of a blood-related daughter. That may have seemed like a cop-out move, but to me, it was the only logical move. See, Alucard and Alley's relationship doesn't revolve around who they are to each other; rather, it's what they do for each other that's important. Alley feeds Alucard information, sure, but what does Alucard give her in return? Clearly, something good enough to be considered a father figure. That, I think, is what's important about the two of them. Plus, Alucard is based off of a real man, who really didn't have any children. The choice for me, therefore, was logical. Sorry if that's not the answer you wanted."

He reached over to the table again, and produced a needle full of black tar heroin. He pulled a belt over his arm, smacked his wrist a few times, and injected it directly into the vein, whilst reading from the book. He glanced back up, and then back down, and then his eyes went two different directions.

"Ooh, here's a comment that I really liked, from **Morality is a Spook**, a guy who very regularly gives me good constructive feedback regarding the situations I put the characters in. He says, 'Why would Alucard help the Krauts, since they are largely an inspiration for his more demonic nature spread in Europe'. An excellent question, Mr. Spook, and to him, I already gave an answer, but it's something that really fascinates me, so I guess I'll tell everyone else, too."

"The more demonic side of Germany isn't entirely present in warfare until WWII, and while, during WWII, the Nazi's did tons of shit to deserve being construed as 'demonic vermin', the Germans of WWI most certainly did not. In fact, in my opinion, they were the victims of the Great War, lashing out entirely in self-defense."

"You see, if you look at the war from Germany's perspective, they're only there at all to aide their smaller and far more inferior ally, the Austro-Hungarian empire, in their fight against Serbia and Russia. Now, Germany is in a rather tight spot, because they have Russia to contend with, which is already a losing fight in the making, on one side, and on the other, they have the French army, which is the French Army, but the Germans are boxed in nonetheless. What are they gonna do, huh? They strike first, because they've got more bad guys that are a hell of a lot bigger than them to deal with, and they've got to deal with them ASAP."

"'But they invented all of these ridiculously powerful and cruel weapons', you say. Sure they did; they're fighting a war on two fronts, and in the interest of ending it quickly, they do everything in their power to develop weapons that the enemy doesn't want to fight. 'But they invaded a neutral country', you say. Sure, they invaded a neutral country to get to France, but not without fair warning and certainly not with the intent to level the country."

"'But they committed all of these war crimes', you say. Ah, but there's where you, as Alucard says, need to stop listening to the Lame Stream Media. Tales of Germans crucifying soldiers, raping nuns, and boiling down bodies to make gun oil, it was all just propaganda. None of it actually happened. Sure, there was rape, like in every war ever fought, but it was sparse, it wasn't encouraged, and it was punished severely by German command. And by the end of the first year, Germany is fighting a defensive war to buy her allies time, using itself as a giant plug to stop reinforcements from getting to any other fronts. It's quite noble, I think. You know what else I think? Alucard's had his share of Fake News spread about him, a lot of which is common knowledge that is treated as fact. Frankly, I think the WWI era Germans are Alucard's people."

"In fact, my plan was to, after this was over, make a little Prequel to this, where Alucard and Abraham's son fight in various different countries on various different fronts to stop a worldwide conspiracy to raise a vampire army to take over the world, starting in the Caucasus mountains, and ending in England. If you're interested, let me know."

"Oh, here's another one, from **UwU_Kitty_69**, it says, 'Pootis McTootis, I really need a boyfriend! I wish you would see my pics! Come see me here-' Wait a minute! That's just an E-Thot! Never mind."

"Actually, on that note, can I get some fanart of Schrodinger giving a curtsey? Asking for a friend."

Pootis McTootis stopped for a moment, and carefully removed his spectacles, tossing the book over his shoulder. He reached his free hand over to the coffee table again, and put his hand in a jar of CBD oil. His fingers returned to him, rubbing the oil on his lips, using it like Chapstick. He smacked his lips a few times, making sure his lips felt nice and wet. Then he reached back into his pocket, and retrieved an asthma inhaler, pushing the tip into his open lips, and slamming down on the top. He inhaled deeply, smashing his hand onto the coffee table the whole time. Then he removed the inhaler, and exhaled strongly.

"Oh, man, that's good shit", he said, slapping the table one more time. He tossed the inhaler away, and returned his attention to the audience. "Now, about that short story I alluded to. It was something I had floating around in my head, and I jotted it down quickly, because I thought it was hilarious, but I couldn't find a good place for it in the story as a whole. It's rough, it's crude, its completely unrefined, and it's definitely still in the 'rough draft' stage of its life, but here you go. God help you, I'm so sorry about this. Without further ado, let me introduce you to..."

The Mole People

"This isn't going to work", Alucard told Anderson.

"Why didn't ya say so before", the burly Scot replied.

"I_ did_ say so before", Alucard informed him, as he checked to make sure his .454's were loaded.

"I'm not worried", Anderson responded, holding up a small white card with a picture and some writing. The picture was of Anderson's face, twisted up into an insane grin. "I just printed out a fake ID; now my name's Alex!"

That did nothing to alleviate Alucard's worries.

"Isn't your name_ already_ Alex?"

"No, ya nitwit", Anderson told him, "It's Alexander! Completely different!"

"... If you say so", Alucard begrudgingly relented.

"Excellent", Anderson practically shouted with glee. "Then let's go rob a school!"

"There's got to be_ something_ on the headmaster there", Alucard added. "No one's smart enough to cover their tracks completely... especially when it involves so many missing children that have been... swept under the rug, so to speak."

"His house had nothing", Anderson said with a scowl, "and his phone records only showed calls to other teachers. Almost all of them during school hours, or right after. This guy's good. I wouldn't put all of our stock in this bust."

"There will be plenty of 'busting' when I get back home, though", Alucard grinned devilishly.

"See, now I'm starting to understand why the Church hates yer guts so much", Anderson told him.

"And yourself", Alucard asked out of curiosity.

"Ah, I hated you from the very beginning", Anderson told him, "but I understand ya. And that makes me like ya, somewhat, despite the fact that I hate ya, even though I kinda like ya, though I still hate ya."

"... So..."

"Just know that you're ok in my book."

"Ah."

"I'd still shank ya in an alleyway."

"I see."

"But only 'cause I love ya."

"Right. Let's go."

The two of them walked in slow-motion towards the school, with explosions going off behind them, tanks firing their cannons, and bald eagles screeching overhead.

The two of them tried to hold the door open for one another, but they wound up getting into a fistfight over who was more gentlemanly.

The two of them finally decided that they were both dickheads, and decided to walk through the door at the same time. But they ended up getting stuck. So they got into another fistfight, in close quarters, over who was fatter. Their fighting caused them to fall indoors.

They both stood up, brushing themselves off, and walked into the intake office like nothing had happened. The two ladies at the desk stared at them with mouths agape. Anderson approached them first, a suave gait about him.

"Hallo, ladies", Anderson said, with a grin that looked far more insane than he had meant it to be. "I'd like ta go teach some children the importance of a healthy countenance through anger management!"

He pushed his ID across the countertop. The ladies continued to stare with their mouths agape.

"If ya need anything else, mah phone number's on there! Toodaloo!"

Anderson walked off, opening the door which was supposed to have been locked, that lead into the school with ease. Alucard followed closely behind, and hypnotized both ladies into believing they hadn't seen either of the two men. Then he followed Anderson.

The two of them stumbled their way through the school, trying to find the headmaster's room. The two of them kept shushing each other whenever they made excessive noise, and then began bickering about shushing each other, which then caused them to shush each other more, which then resulted in more bickering.

They came across a bathroom, one side servicing male students, and the other side servicing female students. A man with a hefty mustache was trying to sneak into the girl's bathroom. Anderson put a hand on the man's shoulder, and he jumped, turning around with a fearful expression adorning his face.

"Mind explainin' yer actions for me, good sir", Anderson said with barely masked rage in his voice.

"I... well, I", the man stuttered. A defeated expression grew across his face, and he said, softly, "Please don't call me insane, sir. This school has an infestation of mole people. I have been trying to find their nest for the past week, and the only place I have left to check is this bathroom."

Alucard and Anderson shared a glance. Either this man was completely insane, or this job just became a whole lot more complicated. A quick glance at the door, and Alucard could see that the bathroom in question was cordoned off. So, some indirect evidence to support his theory.

"These mole people", Alucard asked, "what did they look like?"

"Well", the man began, "they don't really look like 'moles' per se, but when I approached a colleague about it in private, that's what she called them-"

"When", Alucard asked, with sudden urgency.

"Well, about a week ago I shared-"

"WHEN DID WE ASK", Anderson and Alucard said in unison.

"Oh, uh, sorry. The mole people look like... well, imagine if you took a man, gave him a hunched, almost four-legged appearance, made them twenty shades paler than pale, made boney protrusions come out of their spines, and replaced their faces with a wide mouth full of sharp teeth. I observed one with a child's bloody shoe in its mouth."

Alucard and Anderson exchanged another glance. The man's description perfectly fit a Goblin, the more diminutive strand of Nephilimic DNA. Goblinism affected roughly zero-point-five percent of the world's population in very small ways, and with proper gene therapy, or rigorous sacrifice, or both, they could be cultivated into the abominations that the man was currently describing.

"It's not for me", the man declared, "but I fear for my children. One of the young girls in my class went missing, you see, and... and that shoe..."

He didn't need to finish his sentence. Anderson placed a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Go on back ta teachin'", Anderson advised him. "This kind of work is a bit outta yer league."

The man snapped up, with a startled expression adorning him.

"Do you mean that – what I saw... I'm not insane?! And that... that you two can help?!"

"Your children are lucky to have such a brave man as their teacher", Alucard told him. "I hope you learn to cultivate this courage."

Anderson pushed him along, getting him to walk back towards his class. The two of them looked at each other, both growing grins. Anderson quietly swung the door open, and they walked through.

The floor had a huge hole in it, surrounded by dirt that looked like it had recently been thrown up. Most of the stalls had been completely torn up, so no playing Battleshits with Anderson, but they had a different kind of battle to do anyway.

Almost before they got to the opening, one of the creatures leapt out. Anderson immediately speared it through the neck. It dripped crimson blood that was coagulating as soon as it hit the ground. It gave a pained hiss as it died.

"Well", Alucard told him, producing his pistol, "they know we're here now."

Alucard, of course, volunteered to go first, but Anderson countered with a volunteer of his own. Their disagreement ended in a loud, obnoxious fistfight. Loud enough, apparently, to wake the wicked.

Goblins began spewing forth from the hole, hissing and moaning, lunging themselves at the haplessly tangled two. The first goblin was blown back by a .454 round to the face, and the second took a bayonet to the chest, tumbling over itself haphazardly.

"Fall back to open ground?"

"I second the motion!"

In the middle of the school was a courtyard of sorts, with tables for children to eat their lunch at, and as they exited the bathroom, they backed up towards it, throwing bayonets and firing bullets to stem the tide of disgusting creatures. After another brief volley that sent the spindly creatures reeling, an alarm began sounding, and someone shouted over the PA, "Lockdown, lockdown, lockdown!"

As soon as they hit the doorway to the courtyard, one ringed by actual grass and trees, they turned and sprinted for the middle of the courtyard. Anderson, the only one with explosives on the two, threw out a bayonet jamboree, a line of bayonets ringed with plastic explosives, in a line leading from the door to the center of the courtyard. Alucard wasn't worried about him setting it off in a school, yet. More than likely, it would be a last resort.

Alucard raised his pistols, and Anderson raised his bayonets.

And then they killed them all. Because this is a Norse story.

The craters were full of bloody mud, making them hard to walk through, and pushing their way through the bodies was no small task. But now that they had a school with a goblin nest on their hands, one that had easily contained fifty or more goblins, and the combined force of an entire state police undoubtedly responding to the call within maybe the next year, they didn't have much time to dwell on their success.

Crawling into the nest was not an option for Alucard, because his outfit was expensive. So Anderson, with his dollar-store lookin-ass trench coat, kindly volunteered on the exchange of a single dick punch. After receiving his due, he crawled in, and did not return until Alucard was able to pull himself back together, several minutes later.

In his arms was a slew of objects. He dumped them onto the ground in front of Alucard, and glanced up at him with an upturned brow. Alucard stooped down and picked up a porcelain plate with a pentagram painted on the center of it. Little dots of blood had dribbled along the edges of it.

"Evidence enough", Anderson asked.

"Yep", Alucard said, swallowing his anger. He let the plate drop from his hand, shattering on the ground. "The only question is, which song do you want to slow-walk up to the bad guy to?"

"I picked last time", Anderson told him. "Your turn."

"Under the Influence", Alucard said without hesitation. "D-12."

Anderson raised an eyebrow.

"The song where Eminem talks about his dick?"

"Good choice", Anderson seconded. "Fire it up!"

Slow-walking down the hallway to the sounds of Eminem telling people to suck his dick and Bizarre telling people that all bitches are whores, including his own mom, was cool all the way up until the class bells rung, and kids began pouring out of their classrooms like nothing at all was wrong. Alucard was pretty sure that some girl called him a weirdo. But he was too busy vibing with Anderson to care.

Anderson kicked in the door to the headmaster's room. He screamed like a girl, of course, because why wouldn't he? Little bitch.

They hadn't actually coordinated how they were going to go about this, but both men knew what should be done nonetheless. Anderson proudly marched right up to the desk, while Alucard quietly slid in, shutting the door behind him.

"We took care of yer fookin goblin problem, ya pajama-wearin' basket-faced slipper-wieldin' clide du backle gither up bleetherin bon bleetherin' gummel chessy oaf-lookin stoner, nerf blookis an' milk drinkin' soy-faced shull-pip lil-moof slitherin' worm-eye hoodin' block, vile stoogie calipre tagey", Anderson told him like a real man.

"I", the man began, recovering from both his fright, and the incredible amount of Scottish testosterone on display. "Thank you. They have been stealing children for some time now."

"Huh", Alucard said from the back, "I wonder why _that_ is."

"Speakin' of stealin' kids", Anderson piped up, "why in the bleedin' hellscape would ya let these kids run around after hearin' gunshots, ya nonce?"

"Well, the gunshots stopped", the principal declared. "So, I figured the shooter either committed suicide or ran out of bullets. a victory for the education system, I say!

"Fuck, that's sad."

"And not the point", Anderson yelled, even though he had asked the question in the first place. "Listen here ya fookin mug, you think prayin' ta the devil's fun, do ye, ya wee little man that you are?!"

"I... I don't understand a word you're saying-"

"I've got ha son o' 'e defil 'ere, ya cheeky bloker!"

"Oh bother, this conversation again? Anderson how many times-"

"An 'e's gonna teach ya a thing er two about the error of yer ways!"

"You wouldn't turn me over to such a satanic creature", the headmaster, knowing full well the game was up, said with a smile. "Your precious Bible would tell you not to give into such petty things as vengeance!"

"Aye, the Bible's got plenty on vengeance", Anderson affirmed. "''Vengeance is Mine', sayeth the LORD', Roman's 12:19."

"In this case, however", Alucard told him, pulling back his lips into an evil smile, "vengeance is most definitely the Lord's. You just get the honor of meeting him early!"

The headmaster's eyes went wide.

"Y-you can't do this!"

"Then stop me, bitch."

Alucard lunged, sinking his teeth into the man's neck, draining him of his blood on seconds. The man withered into a husk, falling limply against his chair.

"Whatdya know, ol' boy", Anderson asked.

Alucard grinned.

"Names", he said, turning to face Anderson. "Lots... and lots... of names!"

...

Pootis McTootis returned his attention to the audience, lighting up a cigar composed entirely of hair clippings and used band-aides. he took a single drag, and released a cloud of blue smoke. Then he pushed the cigar into his mouth, munching on it like a snack, and swallowing it whole.

"I'm so sorry", he told the audience, "but on an unrelated note, I need your help, cheerful audience members. There was this one Mass Effect fic that I read a long ass time ago, and I don't remember the name of it. But basically, Commander Shepherd goes around picking up characters like Master Chief, Soap, and other dumbass main video game characters, and goes on an epic quest for some reason, encountering characters like Price, Mario, and others, whilst having wacky, out-of-this-world adventures, including the use of Master Chief's ROFLCopter. If any of you are as degenerate as I am, and know the name of this story, then please let me know, because I need to fill up the spank bank."

"But you know what's really got me in my feelings right now? I've noticed that everyone in this story, especially Seras, has been fearful to some capacity. Be it when Seras yelled out in surprise, or when the Mercs dove for cover... the only exception has been Alucard. Mostly, because Alucard doesn't fear death."

Pootis McTootis picked up his Atari controller, and a grin stretched across his face.

"You want to know what Alucard fears?"


	11. Chapter 9: The Wrong Reasons

_I'll be the first to admit that I've made mistakes in my life. Mistakes are a varying thing, though. Sometimes, you make mistakes that you can learn from and move past, ultimately bettering yourself in the end. Not being the first to invent the Beerhat, forgetting to fix the slightly longer dip in the stairs, and accidentally shooting Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife because you thought he was trying to run you over while you were drunk, are all mistakes that you can live with, move past, and learn from. But siring the wrong person, for the wrong reasons... that will haunt you forever._

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 9: The Wrong Reasons

Of course, when Alucard returned to the safe house, the sun was starting to peak the horizon, and Seras wasn't there. After scratching his head for a moment, he gave up, and simply decided to just go find Alley. It was time to catch up anyway.

...

Sometime after the moon had started coming up, Seras finally found Alley.

Or, rather, Alley found her.

Seras had been sniffing around the alleyway that she had initially seen Alley in, when something dinked off her shoulder. She spun around quickly, quick enough to watch the empty soup can clatter to the ground. Alley was already picking up another can to throw when Seras said hello.

The second can smacked into her face.

"Ouch", Seras said, holding her nose. "Why did you do that?!"

"I don't know you, _vampire_," Alley sneered, as if it were a curse. "So get lost!"

"I'm Alucard's sire", Seras told her.

"Don't try to fool _me_ vampire", Alley shouted, as she readied another empty can, "I've seen Alucard's sire before, and you don't look _anything_ like her!"

"Wait", Seras said, causing the smaller figure to hesitate. "What do you mean, you've seen her before? This is the first time we've met! Well, second, actually... you _have _seen me before, remember?"

The smaller figure seemed to contemplate something momentarily. She looked Seras up, and then she looked her down. Then she hurled her can.

This time, Seras was able to get her hands up in time for an effective block.

"So, he's got a new sire, huh", Alley said, in a very adult-like fashion.

"New", Seras echoed. "You say that like he has many sires."

"I'm not one of them, if that's what you're trying to say", Alley told her flatly, a frown creasing her little face.

"Well, then, let's start there", Seras said hopefully. "What's your story?"

"Were you a detective", Alley asked.

"I'm... sorry?"

"Daddy called you 'Police Girl', so were you a detective, or not?"

"Oh... no. I was just a... beat cop."

She thought maybe Alley would understand what she was saying if she said it like that.

"Oh, so you're one of those... what did Daddy call them again... asshole cops?"

The cuss word that came from her mouth was in stark contrast to her innocent aura. Seras couldn't suppress a giggle.

"Yeah, I guess I was an asshole cop."

"Well, cop", Alley said, taking a step forward. "You know my name, so I should know yours. Cause that's polite."

_Cause that's polite_. Seras could just barely suppress another giggle. Alley acted like such an adult. A smile crevassed her face

"My name is Seras Victoria", she told the small vampire, kneeling down in front of her.

"Ok, Seras", Alley said. "You're here for information, so what do you wanna know?"

At first, Seras was completely floor by the fact that Alley could not only see right through her, but could also accurately guess what she had come for. Then, another realization kicked in, and her amazement was soured by disgust.

"Is that all he uses you for", Seras said, unable to hide the disgusted look that swept over her face. "Information?"

"Uses", Alley asked with a blank stare. "I'm _good_ at learning. I'm small, I can get in tight places. I've got good ears; I can listen well. I like knowing for knowing's sake. Excuse me if someone else wants to put that to good use." Alley wagged a finger at Seras, as she continued, "And don't come to me all high and mighty saying Daddy uses me when you're here for the same thing."

Now Seras really was floored. Alley was as smart as a whip, not just in overall awareness, but in wit as well. She was currently three steps ahead of Seras, and if she wanted to really learn anything, she was going to have to start outsmarting this kid.

"You're right", Seras conceded. "I am here for information. I just want to know some things... and then we can be friends, ok?"

"I don't think so, lady", Alley told her flatly. "I've got enough pen pals."

Good god, she was losing a battle of wits to a child. The realization hit her like a freight train. How was she supposed to turn this around?

"Well, I'd like you to tell me about yourself", Seras began, hoping to salvage this conversation.

"Why?"

"Because I want to know more about you."

"For knowing's sake?"

"Yes", Seras affirmed with a smile, "for knowing's sake."

For a moment, Alley drew back, hesitating.

"Well... I was a mistake."

"Oh, Alley, don't say that", Seras said supportively, trying to comfort her. "You aren't a mistake!"

"God, I hope I was", Alley said, rolling her eyes. "I hope some evil person didn't think to themselves, 'hey, let's make a child vampire who will sit around answering dumb questions for dumb people all day.'"

Good NIGHT. No wonder Alucard liked this child so much. Her insults may not have been profanity-ridden, but somehow, they stung even worse than Alucard's.

"As I was saying", Alley continued with a huff, "I was _supposed_ to be a sacrifice... but the guy who was supposed to do it messed up. Probably because Daddy dislocated the back of his head from the front of his head."

"Oh", Seras said, starting to understand. "So you feel like since he saved you, you owe him?"

"_Saved me_", Alley repeated with a dumbfounded expression. "He didn't _save_ me! He failed _miserably_ at that part! What he should have done was put me to sleep! Forever!"

Seras was taken aback by what she was hearing. Sweet, sassy little Alley wanted to _die_?

"And what he _could_ have done was walk away from me. He lives in London, after all. He could have disappeared off the face of the Earth, and never seen me again. But he didn't. He didn't want to kill me, so instead he swore to protect me. You don't get that from people in his position, often."

Seras was a bit dumbfounded by that. Honestly, she didn't know what to think. Up until now, she had seen Alucard as an asshole who used people, who made cold, calculating decisions that ultimately benefitted himself at the expense of others. But Alley saw him as a protector, and one who was quite inconvenienced by her existence at that. And truth be told, she hadn't even thought about how far away England and America were.

Which reminded her...

"How often does Alucard come to see you?"

"Every weekend!"

"Really?!"

"Have you ever noticed that he doesn't work on the weekends?"

Actually, she hadn't. And now she was purely baffled. He came to see her _every weekend_.

A little bit more train on that thought revealed just how shallow that really was, though. Alucard could go practically anywhere for practically any reason, so the fact that he only came to see her on the weekends was... well, shallow. If he was _really _trying to protect her, he would have been around more often, like whenever he disappeared midday on Wednesdays and Thursdays. He was just ferrying himself back and forth for information.

A frown creased Seras' face. Alley must have mistaken it for a look of concentration, because she stayed silent. Seras sighed.

"Well, what else do you know about Alucard", Seras said, in as cheerful a voice as she could muster.

Alley cocked her head.

"You're his new sire", Alley said in an even tone. "If he wants to tell you about himself, he will."

"Well, about that", Seras said, "I think he wants me to learn about him on my own."

"How would you know that?"

"Call it 'woman's intuition'."

"Yeesh, he must really think you're not a very good Police Girl if he's making you work for it", Alley said with a smirk. "If he thought you were smart enough to figure it all out on your own, he'd just tell you."

Seras was starting to question why she had come here in the first place. She wasn't entirely certain what information she truly wanted, but she knew for a fact that she didn't come here to get roasted by a little girl.

"Work with me here, Alley", she said, with an air of authority in her voice. She was tired of playing nice. Now she was playing cop.

What she did seemed to have the opposite effect of what she wanted. Alley grinned so wide, she had to squint her eyes to show all of her sharp teeth.

"Are you playing 'bad cop' now", Alley said in jest.

Yikes. Seras wasn't going to be able to make Alley play by her rules at all. In fact, she had probably just set their conversation back to square one. She was going to have to give Alley the reigns here if she wanted to know anything at all.

Seras gave an audible sigh.

"I'm sorry, Alley", Seras said to her. "I didn't do too many interrogations when I was on the Force. So, you know what? Let's not treat this like an interrogation. Why don't you tell me what _you_ want to?"

Alley raised a little eyebrow.

"Alright, copper", Alley said, "how about I ask _you_ some questions, then."

"That's fine by me", Seras said with a nod.

"How old are you?"

"I'm nineteen."

"I mean in vampire years, lady", Alley clarified.

"Um... zero?"

Alley seemed to consider this, placing a hand on her chin in thought.

"How did you die?"

"Alucard shot me", Seras deadpanned.

"Really", Alley said, perking up a little. "Now _that's_ interesting."

"Why is that interesting?"

Alley smirked.

"Daddy rarely misses", Alley told her matter-of-fact-like. "Why did he turn you?"

"I", Seras began, stumbling mentally. Once again, a question she had asked herself again and again, one that kept her up at night and begged for an answer.

An answer she didn't have.

"I don't know", she finally admitted.

Alley seemed to contemplate this particular fact very deeply. A few minutes past, as she scrunched up her little face in concentration.

"Huh", she finally said, a confused look spreading over her face. "That's odd."

"Why is that odd?"

"I don't know", Alley said in a mocking tone. "Why don't you tell me, lady?"

"Maybe because it's odd to give someone powers without telling them why?"

"Nailed it", Alley affirmed.

Beyond this, she offered no further explanation.

"Where did you grow up?"

A horrific flashback of her childhood shot Seras straight up.

"I grew up in Leeds. Nothing happened."

"Sounds boring."

"It was..."

"What were your parents like?"

"Alive", Seras answered, far too quickly.

Alley's face creased into an angry frown at first, indicating she thought Seras was mocking her. But after a moment of thought, it turned into a sad frown.

"I'm sorry", Alley said. "I didn't know my parents. It's good you spent some time with yours."

Seras didn't quite know how to respond. This little girl was smarter than any child she had ever met, and because she was so smart, she was able to make the whole situation completely awkward. Seras let the silence continue, trailing her eyes away in thought.

"Well, that's all I've got for now", Alley told her, turning around to walk away.

"Wait", Seras said. Alley turned back to look at her, and Seras noticed that she was outlined by the rising sun. "You didn't recognize me earlier, didn't you?"

"Earlier tonight", Alley asked. "I did. I just didn't know that you were Daddy's new sire."

"Well, who else has Alucard sired", Seras asked, confused.

Alley smiled.

"Don't go opening coffins that don't yet house corpses", Alley told her.

"Sorry, what?"

"That's my one and only warning. If I tell you about this, well... it's ancient history, but it's not quite dead yet."

"I don't understand."

"Of course you don't", Alley told her smugly. "This is _advanced_ knowledge. Stuff that only people in the _know_ know about."

"And?"

"If you're not in the know yet", Alley told her flatly, "there's a darn good reason."

"So? What reason?"

Alley shrugged.

"I guess you're about to find out. I get talkative when the sun comes up."

"So... who's this other sire?"

"Well, if I'm going to tell you that", Alley said, unaware of the shadow that loomed behind her, "I'm going to have to take you back to the beginning. Back before Alucard was 'Alucard', when the world was strange and wild, a time when the clashing of armies determined the fate of the world!"

"Sounds like a good story", Alucard said, sweeping Alley up off the ground and onto his shoulders. "Why don't you tell it to me?"

Alley went red in the face, and then went completely pale. That small show was over in an instant, as Alley quickly changed the subject. As Seras stood up, Alley grinned again.

"I saw a werewolf last night", she said triumphantly.

"You did", Alucard said, his voice sounding alarmed. He lifted Alley off his shoulders, and turned her around to face him. "Did you stay hidden?"

"He never saw me", Alley said while her face made a contour of confidence.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm still alive, aren't I", Alley asked. She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. "He got into a blue car, and I even saw the license plate number! I wrote it down for you, too!"

Alucard embraced her into a gentle hug.

"Don't take risks like that, ok", Alucard asked her, in a voice that Seras actually thought sounded like it showed genuine care.

"I didn't", Alley reaffirmed. "He never saw me!"

"Just", Alucard began. He released her from the embrace, and took the piece of paper from her hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Daddy", Alley said happily, hugging him around the neck again.

She released her little grasp from him, saying, "Sounds like you've got work to do!"

"Sure does", Alucard told her with a sigh.

For a moment, Seras thought that Alucard might make Alley tell her story again, just to torture her. But he didn't. Instead, he wrapped her up in another hug.

"Stay safe out there", Alucard told her. "I'll be back this weekend."

"Cross your heart", Alley asked, making the symbol of the cross over her heart again.

Alucard grinned, responding, "And hope to live."

Alley planted a small kiss on his cheek, then raced away into the shadows. Once again, Alucard sat still for a moment, staring in the direction of where she had gone to. Then he stood up, dusting himself off.

"Come on", Alucard told Seras. "We've got a werewolf to catch."

...

Pip Bernadotte was still trying to sleep off his hangover when his phone rang.

Groggily, he rolled over onto his side, taking note of the fact that he was on a floor with rather plush carpet.

Where was he?

He rolled over, hoping the incessant ringing would quit on its own. When it didn't, he groaned, reached into his pocket, and pulled the phone out.

Putting the receiver up to his ear, he gave a carefully guarded and rather groggy, "Bonjour?"

"Pip, shut the fuck up and put someone smart on the phone."

Of course it was Alucard. Pip yanked the phone away from his ear, suppressing a groan, and looked around the room. He was in what appeared to be a rather fancy hotel. Directly in front of him was a couch that was occupied by Michael Norton, the Pest from the Mid-West, as he was referred to by his cohorts.

Speaking of which, where _were_ his cohorts?

Wesley "Cali Swag" Greeve and Carver "Six-gun" Samson were nowhere to be seen. Pip rolled over onto his stomach, trying to see behind him, but the king-sized bed was devoid of the two men.

"Fuck", Pip breathed.

"I'm WAITING", Alucard said over the phone.

Pip tried to stand, but found that the room spun around him when he did. He gently eased himself back to the floor, and belly-crawled his way over to Michael. The man snored away like a freight train, making Pip ponder how he had slept through that.

He gently tugged on the man's sleeve, and he sprang into action... exactly two inches up, before hung-over Michael realized that this particular action was rather painful. He lifted himself up into a sitting position, much more gently, and groggily glared at Pip.

"Yeah, Boss?"

Pip passed him the phone. Michael begrudgingly took it, and spoke through the receiver.

"Michael-"

"Who the FUCK is this", Alucard shouted.

"The... mid-western guy."

"Oh. Sup, homie?"

"Oh, you know", Michael said with a yawn, holding his head in his hand, "just waking up."

"Can you run a license plate number for me", Alucard asked.

Michael looked around the room, taking note of the fact... with some relief... that his laptop sat on a small coffee table next to the bed.

"Yeah" Michael said begrudgingly into the phone, "sure."

He carefully stood up, and took baby steps towards his computer, being as careful as possible not to stumble and fall.

"T-t-t-_today_, junior", Alucard insisted about halfway to the computer.

Michael stumbled the rest of the way to the bed, catching himself on the edge. He turned to his computer. It was open to videos of gorillas beating each other up. God only knew why.

He swapped tabs to , and said into the receiver, "Go ahead."

Alucard gave him the numbers and letters slowly and carefully. By the time he was done, Michael was already picking up a hit.

"Blue Honda Civic?"

"Sounds right", Alucard told him. "Anything to report?"

"Guy really likes to park in front of fire hydrants", Michael offered.

"Text me addresses."

"Will do."

As Michael went through the trouble of texting Alucard on a flip phone, Pip finally regained the ability to stand up straight. He used his newfound ability to flop onto the nearby couch.

"Honestly", Pip said, rubbing his head, "fuck being wine-drunk."

"Well, we _did_ have some fun", Michael pointed out. "We had so much fun, we lost Cali Swag and Six-gun."

"Fuck", Pip swore. "Do you know where they went?"

"I just got a text from Six-gun", Michael confirmed. "He's in a dumpster behind an Arby's. Cali Swag's with him."

"What the fuck happened last night", Pip asked, digging his hand harder into his forehead.

Michael grinned.

"Got kicked out of a few places, got into a few fights, but the _real_ highlight was when you reneged on some of that shit you've been talkin'."

"What shit specifically?"

"That 'freak'? You said she was smokin'."

"No", Pip responded dismissively. After a moment of silence, Pip turned his weary eye in Michael's direction. "Really?"

"You were saying shit like, 'I wonder if she's ever been kissed by a Frenchman before', and, 'She'll never know _true_ love 'til she knows _French_ love'. The boys were practically _howling_!"

"Oh, fuck right off."

"They don't call me 'Serious Sam' because I tell lies!"

"Who the fuck calls you 'Serious Sam'?"

"Some Russian dude. Anyway, go for it, man."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You want her? Go get her."

"You're out of your damn mind."

"Maybe I am. We did take _some_ of our jokes a little _too_ far. And being in the sand for all those years makes you... eh, rough around the ladies. But you've got game, man! I've heard your stories."

"I'm more of a one-night stand kind of man."

"Don't give me that shit", Michael said, as he stretched out across the bed, rolling onto his back. "Everyone's got their limits. Eventually, your brain hits the 'enough's enough' button and you start looking for someone to settle down with. Some people get it faster than others. My uncle didn't hit it until a _year_ before he died. Dude was like eighty."

"I don't want to settle down", Pip said, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. "This is the life for me."

"Come on, man, only psychos really believe that shit. Even the guys who thrive in the military can't do it forever."

"But we're not in the military, are we", Pip asked, as he stuck a cigarette into his mouth.

"Mercing's even worse", Michael said, as he heard a lighter click on. "This job'll get to you. It gets to everybody. Eventually, you do one thing or see one thing that makes you say, 'I didn't sign up for this shit'. I remember that first time we had to grab a spoiled brat. We literally waded through a _river _of semen to nab that girl. It's a wonder I didn't get pregnant, har har. I nearly quit on the spot. I didn't sign up for all that shit."

"But you stayed", Pip said, flipping the lighter closed. "So your point is moot."

"My point is that we've all got our breaking points", Michael corrected. "I _almost_ found mine. You're telling me that with all that horrible shit we did, after having to give ourselves that dumbass "Wild Geese" name or whatever, after Brisbane-"

"Don't talk about Brisbane", Pip interjected with authority.

"Whatever, man. The point is, eventually, you're going to hit that 'enough's enough' button. You're saying you wouldn't wanna be with that smokin' hot Brit?"

"She's a freak, for fuck's sake", Pip complained. "She might eat me in my sleep."

"She hasn't yet."

"So, what?"

"Nothing's stopping her."

"That's my point."

"Remember when we sang that song, and we got her so upset that she cried?"

"So, what?"

"She could've eaten us all, right then, but she didn't. That means something, man."

Pip thought about it for a moment. He was right; nothing had stopped her from turning them all to gelatinous piles of skin and bones. She had literally poked him into submission. She was just... different.

"And maybe that's why..."

"Why what?"

"You know what? You're right. Nothing's stopping her. But you know what's stopping me? Those sharp-ass teeth. I'm not about to get my tongue bit off just trying to steal a kiss."

"Ah, you're thinkin' about it!"

"Shut up."

...

The air was a bit chilly, this high above the Earth's surface. Looking down, he could see some of the most beautiful sights that urban America had to offer, but those sights didn't change the fact that he was freezing out on the gondola. It was times like these that he wished Doc had given him more fur.

The Major stood next to him, seemingly unaffected by the cold... probably because of the layers of fat he had around his body. Schrodinger suppressed a giggle. The Major turned to him, a soft smile crossing his face.

"Almost to the drop point, my beloved catboy", he said in flawless, if heavily accented English. "Must I remind you what we're here for?"

Schrodinger did not need to be reminded.

"We're here to observe", he recited. "We must understand Alucard better before we start this war. His weaknesses to be exploited, but so too his strengths."

"Of course", the Major said with delight. "I shouldn't have to remind you, you're a smart boy!"

The Major finally removed the case from behind his back, saying, "Your weapon!"

Schrodinger opened the small case, and was immediately disappointed.

"I thought it would be a Luger", he said, holding up the handheld video camera.

"Ah, but you see", the Major said in a voice that could have easily landed him a teaching job at any school, "knowledge is the most powerful weapon in our inventory!"

While the Major continued talking, Schrodinger examined the small camera. "While the rest of the world remains blissfully ignorant of our strength... and our mission... we know everything about our enemies that we would need to successfully carry out our plans!"

As Schrodinger looked at his reflection in the lens, taking note that he had some salmon stuck in his teeth, the Major continued. "Everything, except for Alucard's greatest-kept secret! We have followed him from 1918, when he met Kaiser Wilhelm, onward with our impeccable German record-keeping! But _where exactly_ did he come from? He must have been in cahoots with that dreadful Abraham Van Helsing, otherwise, why would he help his son, Gabriel, fight the Council of Thirteen during the Great War? But that _still_ tells us _nothing_! We know that Alucard is powerful, but where did he _get_ that power? Certainly, he shall tell us himself, in one capacity or another!"

"Major", a Private said in German, stepping forward with the click of his heels, "we are five minutes from the drop point!"

"And this is where we part ways, I'm afraid", the Major told Schrodinger, as he handed him the small leather backpack that contained his parachute. "But rest assured, we got you as close as we could... so that you may do the same for us!"

...

Of all the bloody places that Alucard could have taken them, a mini-golf center?

The place seemed rather run-down, overrun by teenagers instead of small kids, which were inherently worse because of the hormones. And gangs. Graffiti covered every conceivable surface, trash was all around the place, and the equipment looked several years overdue for being replaced.

He had pointed out a particular man, who seemed to be large and muscular, wearing a rather tight shirt that showed off his various bulges. The man smoked like a locomotive, having replaced his cigarette right after his last one had reached the butt three separate times in the past fifteen minutes.

Another thing that Seras noticed; the man _stank_.

And not in the traditional, "He must have forgotten to take a shower" sense; the man smelled like a wet dog that had somehow fermented under the rain. The scent was incredibly overpowering. She was surprised that people could stand being within five feet of the man, much less carry on normal conversations with him through him puffing on his cigarettes.

The man wasn't particularly good at mini-golf either. Seras had already heard him tell someone that he was just practicing his swing... yet he had been towed three separate times in this particular parking lot for double-parking. Clearly, he had other intentions with this place. With a shudder, Seras hoped that it wasn't because there were plenty of soft targets about.

Baiting him out would be easy, apparently, but that would be completely up to Seras.

"Werewolves have their social circles", Alucard told her, "and they talk about me a lot. But I've never heard _your_ name come up in their conversations. So here's what you're going to do. Walk in, look around for a while, and when you start getting close to him, just sniff the air heavily. Then wrinkle your nose and walk away. That's all you have to do."

"Where do you want me to go after that?"

"The nearest dark alleyway", Alucard told her without any particular direction.

So now, here Seras was, making a complete fool of herself, looking around the place like she was in a convenience store, looking for a certain cereal brand. She looked at all of the various abnormalities that people considered to be "quirky" mini-golf holes, examining them as if she was some kind of pro determining whether or not this particular place was adequate to her skill level. Eventually, she moseyed on up to the suspected werewolf.

The idiot was still smoking his cigarette between his lips, taking poor shots at holes. He was joking with another guy, when he suddenly paused. He removed the cigarette from his mouth, and turned to look straight at Seras. He tossed the cigarette away, and stared at her.

Thinking this might be a good enough time to do what Master told her, she began sniffing the air. She wrinkled up her nose, and turned around to leave the place. Seras, having at least _some_ sense about her, didn't look behind her, just walked straight out, and walked towards the nearest alleyway.

She turned around, and waited. Roughly five minutes later, the man walked calmly into the alleyway. He didn't have a cigarette in his mouth.

"Hello, little vampire", the werewolf said, with a cruel smile on his face. He angled his fingers into a claw, and dragged them across the brick wall, leaving scratches in his wake. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

Alucard swept in behind him, smacking him across both his ears to disorient him. As he turned around, Alucard swung a hook into his jaw, jerking his head around so quickly that his brain must have been bouncing like a ping pong off a paddle. Another fist smashed into his face one more time, and he went down like a sack of potatoes.

"Oh, you know", Alucard told the limp werewolf, "just getting some cheeks to clap."

Alucard produced a syringe, and poked it into the werewolf's neck.

"Um, what was that", Seras asked.

"An enzyme", Alucard explained. "It'll keep him from changing. They're a lot harder to take down when they're bigger."

"Ok... where did you get it?"

"Prison wallet."

"Prison wallet?"

"I can fit a lot of shit in there... and my farts don't make sound."

"Sure, whatever", Seras dismissed, figuring Alucard was just messing with her again.

...

The abandoned shed was just big enough for a chair in the center, underneath a hanging light, and Alucard pacing in front of it. Seras was tucked into a corner.

Alucard paced indeed, with his hands at his side, in front of a very much awake... and quite pissed... werewolf. He was still in the form of a man, so Seras found it difficult to think of him as a werewolf. She didn't have difficulty disliking him, however. The man seemed to generate bad vibes.

A trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, staining his pant leg. He had Alucard fixed with a death-glare, which Alucard returned with a grin.

"So", Alucard began, "how about we start with some friendly questions?"

The werewolf continued to stare him down.

"What's your name", Alucard asked.

"Fuck you", the werewolf responded.

"Fuk Yu, huh? Good name! My dad wanted to name me that, too. Well, Fuk Yu, where are you from?"

"Fuck you."

"Man, what a great providence! I loved fucking my way through that place with Zhang Zongchang, whilst fucked up on opium. Anyway, do you have any particular jobs?"

"Fuck you."

Alucard leaned in, widening his grin.

"I don't think so."

Suddenly, a ringing sound began emanating from the werewolf's pocket. Alucard fished his hand into the pocket, and pulled out a banged-up flip-phone. The ringing continued, and Alucard glanced at the front of it, reading the name that came up.

Almost immediately, a frown creased his face. He glanced back at the werewolf, and then opened up the phone, placing it on his ear. He didn't speak, but Seras could hear someone speaking from the other end. The entire time, Alucard's face fell slack, into a look of disbelief. For a moment, the voice on the other end fell silent. Alucard's hand began lowering, and Seras noticed that it was trembling. His hand fell down to his side, and the voice began again. It sounded like it was asking for confirmation that the other person had heard.

The phone fell from Alucard's hand, and landed on the top part, snapping closed. Seras watched the phone for a moment, then turned her gaze back up to her Master. His own face was contorted into a look of pure, unadultered rage.

The werewolf, noticing Alucard's demeanor had changed, began laughing.

"Productive conversation", he asked in a snide voice.

In a flash, Alucard wheeled on him, yanking his pistol from its holster, and blew the werewolf's brains out. The werewolf wore a look of surprise on his face, until his neck went slack, and his head tipped forward, blood pouring from the gaping hole in his forehead, staining his pants even more.

Alucard lowered his gun to his side, and turned away from the gory sight. Seething with rage, his empty hand clenched into a fist so hard Seras was certain he would crush his own bones.

"Master", Seras asked cautiously. "Who was that?"

For a moment, it seemed like Alucard hadn't even heard her. Then, slowly, he turned his gaze onto her. His eyes were like knives, piercing straight through her.

"Anna Valarious", Alucard finally said. "The last vampire I sired."


	12. Chapter 10: Catching Up

_Rumor has it that there's a big "Grandaddy" vampire to end all vampires somewhere on this earth... spoiler alert, it ain't me. Trust me, I think I would have figured it out by now if I was. Legend has it that he got his powers by making a deal with the Devil himself, which had some stipulation that only he knows about. Legend also has it that if someone were to kill him, every living vampire would have their humanity returned to them. For a while, I was convinced that he existed. In fact, I was so convinced that he really was out there, just straight boolin', that I had created a special unit of vampire trackers just to find him, back in the good ol' days. But after a while, I lost hope of ever seeing him. After all, it's kinda hard to convince yourself that someone is still alive... when no one's seen him in the last two thousand years._

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 10: Catching Up

After a quick call to the mercs, Alucard quietly lead Seras back to Anderson's safehouse. Alucard was eerily silent the whole trip, and Seras was beginning to wonder if she was in a bit over her head here. If this person was important enough to make Alucard this upset, then chances were, the whole situation was rather personal... or worse, impossible for her to intermediate. There might be no stopping a mass slaughter this time.

Just before they made it to the room, Seras decided to ask, "So, why did you call the mercenaries?"

Alucard looked at her with a weird expression on his face, as if he had been lost in thought before she had pulled him back to reality.

"They're running screen", Alucard told her. "They're gonna check and see if there aren't any more werewolves close by while I get some rest."

"While you get some rest", Seras echoed questioningly.

Alucard stopped at the door, his hand on the knob.

He heaved a great sigh, and turned back to her with that strange expression, saying, "I need to get my mind right. I do that best by sleeping. Besides, we're probably all going to need some rest for what's coming next."

He turned the knob, and strode quickly into the room. Seras followed behind him, baffled by what she saw.

Alucard stood in the center of the room, next to what appeared to be a coffin. Seras had seen the coffin before... actually, now that she thought about it, she thought that she may have flown in the cargo compartment of an airplane in this particular coffin... though how Alucard had managed to get it into this room, much less lug it around America all of this time without anyone noticing, was a complete mystery to her. He waved a hand at the coffin.

"It's a novelty, really", he told her, "but sometimes I really do think I sleep better in it."

After getting over the fact that there was just a coffin sitting on the floor in the room, Seras decided she needed some clarity.

"So", Seras asked, "you want me to sleep too?"

"Sure, if you want", Alucard told her, "but you take the bed. It's harder than it's worth to have sex in a coffin."

"Yuck" Seras commented, and moved towards the small bed next to the coffin.

Alucard stopped her with a raised hand.

"Police Girl", Alucard told her, "while I'm in a deep sleep like this, everyone else will be defenseless. It's up to you to protect them, understand?"

Seras nodded conservatively. While the others were gone and the sun was still up, she wasn't certain that they were so much_ her_ responsibility. They were grown men; they could take care of themselves.

With a start, Seras realized what Alucard was telling her; _he_ was vulnerable. And he was counting on her to keep an eye on him.

"I'm a light sleeper", Seras told him.

"Excellent", Alucard told her.

With that, he stepped into the dirt-filled coffin, and laid himself out straight, crossing his arms over his chest. Within a few moments, he had stopped breathing all together, and he became unnaturally still. Seras watched him for a moment more. When she finally decided that there was nothing more to see, she stretched out along the small bed, and closed her eyes.

...

"Seeeeeeeraaaaaaaas..."

Seras' eyes snapped open, but she didn't move. She lay completely still, still drinking in the sight before her. There lay Alucard, still in his dead state, and yet, his head had turned and his eyes had opened. They had a glassy look to them, as if whoever owned them was not quite alive.

He was looking directly at her.

"Seeeeeeeraaaaaaaas..."

She was fairly certain that he was talking in his sleep, but there was something in his gaze that seemed entirely different, entirely new and original, and it beckoned Seras forward. She sat up in the bed, and gently pushed her feet off the side and on to the floor. Standing at her full height, she slowly and quietly began inching her way towards the coffin. When her feet were almost touching the lip, Alucard's hand closest to her began raising. It extended itself out to her, almost as if Alucard wanted to shake her hand.

She hesitated, staring at the hand, unable to think of a situation where something like this ended well. If he had some kind of night terror, he might crush the bones in her hand to dust... or cut her arm right off her body.

Suddenly, she realized that she had never even considered not taking his hand as an option.

"You said you wanted to learn", Alucard told her, in a drawn-out, dreamy voice that wavered and refracted in ways she had never heard him speak in before. "Why don't you learn about me?"

Learn... about him? That didn't make any sense. Why would he share anything about himself with her? He had taught her to learn about her enemies, not her friends.

And yet again she realized that he wasn't really her friend, that he was just using her for some unknown purpose. She was a puppet in his little show, just like everyone else in his life, even little Alley, who he used to garner information. A wave of sickness came over her, and her face twisted into a frown of disgust.

She made up her mind. She would learn about Alucard, learn maybe why he had made the decision to make her this way to begin with. Maybe then she would learn how to free herself from this curse.

She gently reached her hand out, lightly grasping the outstretched one. For a moment, nothing happened. The grip was firm but fragile; if she needed to, she could pull away from it easily. Alucard let out a long exhale, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull.

Suddenly, she was no longer in the room with Alucard. Instead, she was gazing upon a large forest filled with tall trees. Her vision was brought down, and she was sitting on a large rock, and next to her was a little boy, with curly, chestnut-colored hair, and deep oaken eyes. He looked like a very bright child, and he looked like he looked up to whoever he was looking at.

Suddenly, Seras felt her mouth open, and a voice that belonged to a small boy came from her mouth.

"Three miles from here", she said, in the boy's voice, "is a river, Radu. You know what this is?"

Radu, the other child, nodded, still smiling, and still staring at Seras. She noticed that the child seemed to have a deep, rich accent, some Slavic type. She wasn't good with accents, but it sounded like a Romanian man's accent that she had heard before, so she thought maybe that was what she was hearing.

"One day, my dear brother", the small child's voice continued, "I will build us a boat, one strong enough to sail down that river. And wherever it takes us, we shall go! We shall leave this place forever!"

The scene changed to a small, metallic, clearly sterilized room. In front of her was a small table, covered in blood, candles, and a weeping child in a white dress. She recognized her as Alley.

The voice became Alucard's, and the voice shushed her, in a soft, gentle way.

"I'm scared", the little girl said, in a surprisingly open way.

"Me too", Alucard replied, completely genuinely. Alucard knelt down in front of her, and asked, "Want to know what _I'm _afraid of?"

The scene changed again, and Seras couldn't quite recognize what she was seeing at first. Above her was a cobblestone ceiling that was rather hard to see in the low light that the small torch in the corner provided. She caught a glance of her left wrist; naked, and chained to the wall by heavy iron shackles.

The wrist, and the hand attached to it, were small; she was a child only a few years older than the one she had been before.

And she was horribly malnourished.

She noticed that she heard sobbing, but she couldn't tell where the sobbing was coming from. She realized that she kept staring into a dark corner of the room. She stared and stared, and the sobbing continued. Her eyes began to drift shut, and she was overcome by a sense of drowsiness, one that indicated that the boy she was hadn't slept in days. Suddenly, a large, black dog, with saliva drizzling from its bared teeth, lunged towards her. It was stopped short by a chain around its neck, the saliva flinging off his teeth in long arcs, and it gave a brief whimper, but it was quickly overshadowed by the loud, roaring bark that it gave off.

A gate rattled off to her right, but she didn't look towards it. A figure appeared in the corner of her vision, wearing a white robe and a turban on his head. He threw something to the dog... a meaty bone, by the looks of it... and the dog pounced on it, tearing into it with his teeth.

The man with the turban turned towards Seras, and a wicked grin spread across his face. Whoever Seras was, they knew what was happening. They shook their head furiously.

The man pulled a lace on his robe, and it fell to the ground.

"No."

The voice had come from her. And with that, she realized that the sobbing was coming from her as well. It occurred to her that she was the boy from earlier. And the worst part about it; what he had said didn't sound like resistance... it was a reaction, and no more. This child knew what was happening, and he knew that it was going to happen, whether he wanted it to or not.

The man moved forward, and the boy continued to shake his head. The man straddled the boy, the wicked grin burning into his vision.

The scene changed again.

Seras became a man, kneeling to pray in front of a crude statue of Jesus on the cross.

"Dear LORD", Seras said, in the same accent, but thicker, richer and older than the child's, "I have suffered unimaginably. I am broken."

The scene changed again, to a man who had a crown on his head, and a cross on his necklace, and long, vampire canines. He was sauntering slowly towards Seras, with a confident smirk of imminent victory on his face.

"I would not be able to survive this Hell", Seras continued, in that thick, rich, deep Romanian accent, "if it were not for the tender love, the gentle mercy, and the immeasurable strength you have shown me."

The man with the crown crept closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"To you, I shall give all of the glory", Seras said. "For your Kingdom, I shall storm Hell, and kill every demon twice. And in return, I ask only that you spare my people the Hell that I was misfortunate to live in for ten years of my life."

The man with the crown knelt down next to him.

"You saved my mortal soul", Seras continued. "What better gift to give than my life?"

The man with the crown opened his mouth wider, and leaned in towards Seras' neck.

"And to you", Seras concluded, in her thick, rich, deep Romanian accent, "I give it gladly!"

"NO", Seras yelled to a knight, as she stood over the withered remains of the man with the crown, "I am Vlad Tepes no more! I am... I... I am..."

Seras could almost feel the man she was searching for a name so vile as to perfectly capture what man he had become. Suddenly, she was a small boy again, looking up at a man who sat on a throne, with a bottle in his hand.

"You are my son", the man exclaimed belligerently, "The son of a Draco! A son of the Order!"

"No", the boy shouted, "I hate your Order! Your Order is not of GOD!"

"Mind your tongue", the man said, throwing the bottle at the boy, smacking him in the face. The boy clenched his face, and the man said, "and remember that you are the son of Dracul! That makes you-"

"-_Dracula_", Seras finally decided, spitting it at the knight almost as if it tasted vile in her mouth.

The scene changed again, to a pale man, with long, straight black hair, staring off into the distance, looking away from her. He was clad in knightly armor, but it was tinged black, as if Death itself inhabited it, with sharp, pointed ends protruding from every opportune angle. It seemed strange, as if what she was witnessing was not from a memory of someone, but an out-of-body experience.

Her vision was overpowered by a tidal wave of blood smashing over the landscape the figure overlooked, destroying everything in its path. Screams, cries of anguish, and visions of gore flashed through her mind, as the figure continued to stare at the carnage below.

And suddenly, everything was soft, and light. Before her stood a woman, with a halo of light around her, reddish gold hair on her head, sharp blue eyes, and the most gentle, comforting smile that Seras had ever seen. She wore a long, plain dress, one that looked like it had seen years of use on other women's bodies.

She held out her hand for Seras. She didn't even hesitate; she took it instantly.

A horrific vision assaulted her eyes, one of nine knights, long dead, horribly maimed and smeared with blood, their mouths agape with fear, all trying to drag the red-haired woman away, as if trying to protect her from something.

From Seras.

The knights disappeared, and the woman held out her other hand. Seras took it, and this time, the knights did not assault. The woman gazed almost longingly into Seras' eyes, and Seras gazed right back, enraptured by those beautiful crystal blue eyes.

The soft sounds of a piano being played upon rang gently to her ears. Even though she had never heard it before, she recognized the song as Chopin's Spring Waltz.

The woman tugged on her gently, and the two began to twirl around each other. Seras had never danced before, certainly not like this, but every motion she made felt entirely natural. The entire time that they danced, Seras couldn't tear herself from those beautiful blue eyes.

They ended in a position where Seras looked down upon her, as the woman stretched beneath her. Seras leaned forward, as if to kiss her lips, and the woman closed her eyes, beaconing Seras to do the deed.

A sound like a small, heavy object tinking to the ground caught Seras' attention, and she snapped her gaze away, looking to her right. Off in the darkness, a figure was perched up against a wall. He wore a brown leather duster, dirty from travel, but the rest of him looked well-maintained, including the large revolver that he held in his hand.

He perfectly fit Braum Stoker's physical description of him, a man of medium height, strongly built, with shoulders set back over a broad, deep chest and a neck well balanced on the trunk as the head was on the neck. The poise of the head struck at once as indicative of thought and power. The head was noble, well-sized, broad, and large behind the ears. The face, clean-shaven, showed a hard, square chin, a large, resolute, mobile mouth, a good-sized nose, rather straight, but with quick, sensitive nostrils, that seem to broaden as the big bushy brows came down and the mouth tightened into a frown. The forehead was broad and fine, rising at first almost straight and then sloping back above two bumps or ridges wide apart, such a forehead that the reddish hair could not possibly tumble over it, but fell naturally back and to the sides. Big, dark blue eyes were set widely apart, and they had Seras fixed with an accusing glare.

Seras didn't know how, but she knew that she was staring at the legendary Abraham Van Helsing.

Suddenly, shadows grew all around them, other people dancing in time to the keys being thrummed on the piano, and the world seemed much smaller, and far less bright.

Seras returned her gaze to the woman, who returned a soft, questioning gaze towards her.

"What's wrong, Gideon", she asked, in a light, jovial, Romanian voice.

Seras knew the name she had spoken wasn't her name, and that fact disgusted her.

The scene changed again, and she and the woman were overlooking the setting sun, the sky painted beautifully by God's great brush. But all of God's creations paled in comparison to this woman who was leaned on the parapet next to her. She was an Angel, a beautiful Angel, who deserved to be bathing in God's Light in Heaven, not trapped on this terrible plane of existence, stuck between being a queen to her people and a warrior for her family.

Finally, the woman spoke the words that Seras dreaded to hear.

"Gideon Ananias, I love you more than anything in the world. I only love God more than thou", she said, in the most genuine, heartfelt way that she could.

For a flash, she could have sworn that she had seen the man watching the blood roll across the land again.

"And I know you feel the same."

And she did. Seras loved her with everything in her heart and soul. And yet, the name was not hers. She would never have this joy.

There it was again, the man in the black armor watching the blood destroy all.

The woman took Seras' hands, and pulled her closer to her, closing her eyes, and pursing her lips.

The man watching the blood turned his gaze of glowing red eyes to Seras.

She leaned in closer, and closer, wanting nothing more than to feel the woman's soft lips on her own.

The man opened his mouth, revealing wickedly sharp teeth, and a red vapor escaped his lips, as a roar of rage bubbled up from between them, and he lunged for her.

Seras shrieked, jumping away, bringing her hands up to shield her face.

"WASSIT", Alucard shouted, sitting up with a .454 in hand. "WHO WANTS SOME!"

Alucard turned to see Seras, her hands covering her face, and gave a big, loud yawn.

"Shieeeeeeet", Alucard berated, "don't wake someone up like that. That's how people get shot."

He leaned back down, and laid out straight, muttering, "Damn, dudes can't get no sleep these days..."

He went back to that dead state, unmoving, immovable. Seras covered her mouth, for fear that she would scream again, and sank to the ground. Tears spilled from her eyes as a wave of emotions flooded her, and she tried to process what she had just seen.

She was fairly certain that she was seeing things from the perspective of a single person, but she couldn't be for sure. Was it Alucard? It would be fair to guess so, but she had only seen him once that entire time. Could it have been the legendary Dracula? She had heard his name at least once.

Another examination, and pushing aside whatever false intuition was leading her on, revealed that she had seen several different stories from several different people... but they were all important, and they were somehow connected... unless Alucard was a shapeshifter... which wouldn't make any sense, because she had never seen him change the entire time she had been with him, even when he had suffered further death.

So, multiple people... and numerous questions.

Who was the woman? Seras was certain that the feelings she had felt for her were not her own, and were an extension of whoever she was spectating, that Gideon man. Yet she felt unnaturally at ease as the woman's figure entered her mind, and she drank in every portion of her with an almost vigorous fervor...

She shook her head. She needed to focus on what was important. The woman was important, the woman herself, not how Seras felt about her.

Who was Gideon? He seemed like an impostor. If what she had felt was an extension of what _he_ had been feeling, then she was almost certain that he was not who he said he was. And furthermore, if he _was_ an impostor, he had ultimately failed, because he had fallen in love with the queen he was supposed to be spying on.

Not that she could blame him. She was as straight as an arrow, but...

She shook her head, bringing her thoughts back in order.

That man in the black armor. She was fairly certain that he was somehow connected to the man who had proclaimed himself to be Dracula... yet she couldn't be certain.

Three... maybe four different people. Somehow, they were all connected.

A mystery, perhaps one suited for a Police Girl?

...

She didn't remember falling asleep, but when she woke up on the floor, Alucard was already up, with a cell phone in his hand. Clearly, she had awoken right at the start of the conversation.

"This time you've gone_ too far_, Integra!"

"How was I supposed to know", Integra Helsing said simply over the phone. This close to Alucard, Seras could clearly hear her voice with her enhanced hearing.

"You_ did _know, didn't you", Alucard yelled, seething with rage. "Admit it!"

"Alucard, I didn't know", Integra replied, her voice neutral.

"Bullshit", Alucard yelled. "Integra, you don't know what's at stake here! You're pretending like this is some kind of romance novel or something! Real life doesn't have storybook endings!"

"Not if you continue to ignore what needs to be done", Integra answered cryptically.

"WHAT NEEDS TO BE", Alucard began. He inhaled deeply, and then began again. "Integra. Pull me out of this Op. _Now_."

"Not an option", Integra responded coldly. "If what you're saying is true, then you're the best asset to deal with it. Furthermore, after your little stunt with the cameras, even the Round Table is starting to cut aid for us abroad."

"So, I roasted someone on live TV", Alucard responded, throwing his hand in the air. "Big whoop. That's not what we're talking about right now, though, is it?!"

"You know her better than anyone else", Integra told him. "You're the only one who can break this cycle. You said so yourself."

"I WAS DRUNK", Alucard yelled. "People say things when they're drunk!"

"Do you see anyone else alive from that time who is in any position to help you?"

Alucard held his tongue for a moment. Then his lips curled into a sneer.

"You did this. You_ had _to have done this. You knew all about it, you lying rotten_ whore_!"

"That's quite hurtful, Alucard", Integra said neutrally over the phone.

"You know what's hurtful, Integra", Alucard said, bringing the phone around to the front of his face, "DIGGING UP FRESH GRAVES!"

Alucard threw his phone into the wall, making a huge dent, and embedding it almost up to the bottom tip of the phone. Alucard huffed for a second. Then he regained his composure. He walked back over to the phone in the wall, and pulled it out, gently brushing it off. He put it back up to his ear.

"I'm sorry, Integra", he said in a voice that was heavy with regret. "I know you're just trying to help. But this is not the way to go about it."

"Is there any other way", she replied.

Alucard fell silent once again.

"Then you have to do it."

Alucard remained silent. He turned about the room slowly, until he caught sight of Seras. They locked eyes for a moment, and it was clear from Alucard's expression that he could tell she had heard the whole conversation.

"I've gotta go", Alucard said distantly. "The Police Girl just woke up."

"Probably because you smashed the phone into a wall", Integra pointed out. Apparently, she had witnessed this before. "Don't hang up, actually. Give her the phone. I want to talk to her."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Why?"

"None of your business."

"Oh, no, no, no. We are_ way _past the realm of 'none of my business'."

"I miss her. Put her on the phone."

"Fine", Alucard said, tossing the phone in her direction. As Seras struggled to catch it, he commented nonchalantly, "I'm going for a walk."

Before she could protest, he was out of the door. Seras put the phone to her ear.

"H-hello?"

"Oh, Police Girl", Integra said in a relieved voice, "good to hear the voice of someone who isn't mad at me today."

That was assuming quite a lot, but she played along anyway.

"Rough day, Mum?"

"Always", she admitted. "I enjoy the hunt, much as Alucard does. All of the bureaucracy is just jargon in my ear. I'd much rather be shooting a vampire than explaining to a group of old, out of touch farts why shooting that vampire will better the world. And today, I have quite a few bureaucrats in my ear telling me that I'm shooting the wrong things for the wrong reasons, and I don't even have the luxury of pulling the trigger."

"Sounds torturous, Mum", Seras responded sympathetically.

"Indeed", Integra replied. Seras could practically hear her taking a drag on one of her cigars, as she said, "Well, as Alucard often says, 'haters gonna hate', so I suppose I should have known what I was in for."

"If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always here", Seras offered.

"Oh, thank you, Police Girl", Integra said, with something akin to relief in her voice. "Whenever I try to talk to Alucard about it, he just flaunts the fact that _he's_ not the one who has to deal with it. But I'm a big girl, and I can handle myself. Sometimes I just need to bitch a little."

"We all need to bitch a little, sometimes", Seras said with a chuckle.

Integra grunted softly over the phone, adding, "And Alucard's not helping my mood at all."

Seras decided to butt in with a question.

"Why is he so upset, Mum?"

"I'll let him tell you that", Integra said cautiously. "Clearly, I'm in no position to speak on such matters."

For a moment, she remained silent. Then, what sounded like barely contained sobs ebbed through the phone.

"He called me a whore, Seras! I haven't heard that word leave his mouth since I was fifteen! He used to say that he would call me names because he thought highly of me, but if he ever called me a whore, it was because I deserved it!"

"You're not a whore, Mum", Seras said softly. "Whatever he thinks you did, it can't be any worse than anything he's done. Frankly, I don't see him having any moral high ground to stand on when he speaks to someone like you!"

"Oh, Seras, if only that were true", she said, pulling herself together. "Then his words wouldn't hurt so much."

Seras was so utterly stricken by the sounds of Integra having a meltdown over something Alucard had told her. She always seemed so stoic, like a boulder in the ocean, waves crashing against her, water ebbing about her, but ultimately unable to crush her. Hearing her like this would have crushed most people's faith, but Seras was just glad that Sir Integra really did have human feelings inside her human body.

"Oh, I'm sorry you had to hear me make a fool of myself over the phone", Integra told Seras.

"No, no, it's ok", Seras affirmed. "Everyone needs a moment like that in their lives. I'm beginning to learn that myself."

"Good", Integra told her. "It's a lesson that is taught through time. Of which, you seem to have plenty, Seras."

For a moment, the line was silent.

"Seras", Integra said hesitantly, "have you ever seen the movie Troy? With Brad Pitt of all people as Achilles?"

"Um... no, ma'am. Is it a good movie?"

"It omits lots of Homer's troupes and plot devices, but yes, I would say it is an alright movie. But there's a speech that Achilles gives in the movie, about immortality, and how everything seems beautiful when you're doomed. You can't blame Alucard for lashing out. To him, the world has lost its luster. Who wouldn't be angry?"

Seras thought about those words, and realized that they made sense. To live as long as Alucard had... five hundred years, apparently... you would have to witness and live through all of the wrong in the world many lifetimes over. Who wouldn't be angry?

"That doesn't excuse him from calling you a whore, though", Seras said with a frown. "He should apologize."

Integra laughed over the phone, a sound like baritone bells ringing. It was quite relieving to hear, actually. Integra quickly reigned it in and turned it to chuckles.

"Now_ that's _a good joke", Integra affirmed.

Integra seemed to be in much higher spirits after their initial discussion. But she switched topics at the speed of a locomotive.

"I did ask Alucard to pass you the phone for practical reasons", Integra admitted. "I need you to corroborate his mission report so far... for paperwork's sake."

"Of course, Mum", Seras said neutrally. She began to recount her experiences with Alucard, leaving out... some of the more emotionally charged parts. Integra only stopped her once.

"So, James Braid, the famous hypnotist, you saw him die?"

"Uh, no, actually."

"Why not? Did something block your view?"

"Actually, I left shortly before the fight."

"And why is that?"

"Master and I had... um..."

"Had what?"

"A, um... a falling out, I suppose."

"A falling out? Over what?"

"I... well... I can't really... I was just asking about Alley when-"

"Hold on", Integra said sharply, and left the phone.

This was rather unprecedented. She hadn't mentioned Alley up until now, but as soon as she did, Integra had stopped the conversation. That was rather odd of Integra. A moment later, rather loud opera music began playing. Seras heard the phone picked up again.

"Ah, yes, that sweet little girl. You may continue."

"Oh, um... well, Alley, you see, I just wanted to know what her role was to him."

"Ah, but see, you're asking the wrong question."

"I-I am?"

"The question you should have asked was, 'Who is Alley to you?' Did you speak to Alley much?"

"Um, only for a moment."

"And what did she tell you about Alucard?"

"Well, she seemed to greatly admire him, and to that effect, she called him 'Daddy' almost exclusively."

"Well, then, isn't that more cut-and-dry?"

"Well, no, not really."

Integra sighed.

"Police Girl, are you in any capacity aware of the Helsing Rules of Vampiricism?"

"Um, no... I kind of wasn't taught those."

"Oh... well, shit, what do I have all of these manuals for then?"

"Manuals?"

"Oh, right, I keep my vinyl's in them. Well, I should have given you one of these, because they explain the situation that Alucard faces with Alley rather nicely."

"Situation, ma'am?"

"As an act of good will, Abraham had drafted... and Alucard signed... the Helsing Rules of Vampiricism, which dictate how Alucard is allowed to operate. Apart from apprenticing another vampire for the express purpose of hunting, Alucard is allowed no exceptions when it comes to siring anther vampire."

"I see."

"And for siring a child, the consequences are rather... dire."

"But Alucard didn't sire Alley!"

"And Arthur knew that. Yet he locked Alucard away, because the unnamed third party dictated in the manual had determined Alley to be his sire, and him, therefore, in violation of the Rules."

"I don't understand", Seras admitted. "Who is this 'unnamed third party'?"

"Someone I hope you never have to meet", Integra responded cryptically. "That being said, they are a vital asset to the Helsing Organization, and they currently have a listening device in my room. Hence the music."

"But if Alucard already served his sentence", Seras said, "then all is forgiven, right?"

"Not exactly", Integra explained. "Alley is now registered as a sire of Alucard, and is therefore still a viable threat to the Helsing Organization code of Conduct and Morals. To that effect, there is still a 'kill' order out on Alley."

"_Kill_", Seras almost leapt up. "Someone is trying to_ kill_ sweet Alley?!"

"Not from our side", Integra assured her, "not anymore."

"Not from our side", Seras echoed, "what does that mean?"

"You see, Police Girl, Alley was sired by a vampire cult. They still consider her to be their property. So, every weekend, they send a party out to hunt her down."

Every weekend. Seras felt like a complete and total idiot. Alucard came to see her every weekend.

To protect her.

"Why only on the weekends?"

"I assume that's when they're all off work", Integra said, bemused. "Perhaps they think the gods Saturn and Ra will guide them. I really don't know. Cults are strange."

Seras felt like she wanted to cry. She had been so mad at Alucard, thinking he was just an unfeeling machine, but in reality, he had dedicated himself to this child that wasn't even his. If he could do that for her...

What would he do for his own Apprentice?

"Police Girl? Still with me there?"

"Oh, yes, Mum!"

"Good. Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, it does."

"Excellent. Now, tell me about this werewolf."

"Wait, actually, it doesn't."

"Well, how can I clarify things for you, then?"

"It's just... shouldn't this third party be dead by now? I mean, that was so long ago."

"Ah, but that's the beauty of-"

Integra paused, as if she were listening to something. Suddenly, her tone became flat.

"Actually, I'm not supposed to talk about that."

"Why not?"

Most leaders would have left her there, simply telling her, "because I said so". Not Integra. She understood the power of knowledge.

"'Alucard, and anyone he sires, is to know nothing of the identity of this unnamed third party.' That's a direct quote from the manual. To that effect, Alucard can't sway said third party to make a decision out of fear or bribery. Plausible prevention, in a sense."

"I see", Seras conceded. "Still seems bloody knackered, though."

"On that, I cannot agree", Integra admitted. "While I personally know that Alucard's character is sound... eh, when he wants it to be... I understand how he must look to the outside world. Or, at least, the outside world who knows about him. They don't know his intentions, his goals, or his story; all they know is that he runs around shooting up pre-schools and sucking people's blood through crazy straws. They want guarantees. That was what the Rules of Vampiricism were supposed to give them."

Seras could sort of understand it now. But on the topic of guarantees...

"Mum... earlier today... I saw something I couldn't explain."

"And what would that be?"

Seras told her all about the vision, and the conclusions she had reached from it. When she went silent, Integra was quite silent on her end as well.

"That sounds a lot like Memory Sharing", Integra said, sounding rather impressed. "It's a rather advanced power, especially for someone so young. If you perfect your power, it could be a wonderful addition to the Helsing fold, indeed, spanning to nearly any creature or event with enough focus and a firm nexus."

"So... what I saw were memories?"

"Possibly", Integra said, pausing momentarily. "It is possible that it was just as you claim; a vision, or perhaps Alucard put you into a dream-like state, and you saw an extension of his own dreams. I personally think that what you saw sounds an awful lot like memories."

"Well", Seras asked, "what do you think about it?"

"You said it was a mystery, perhaps one suited for a Police Girl to solve?"

"Yes Mum."

Seras could practically hear the smirk on her mouth, as she told her, "I agree."

…

About thirty minutes later, Alucard returned. The humor had gone from his face, and instead of lavishingly announcing his presence, he simply sat down on the edge of the bed. He remained dreadfully silent, his face set as if cast in stone.

"So", he finally said. "Is Integra still mad at me?"

"Not as mad as you seem to be at her", Seras offered half-heartedly.

Alucard grunted, but offered nothing more.

Seras wanted to ask him what this was all about, but whenever she tried to open her mouth, she found her body fighting against her brain. She still wasn't sure about Alucard or his intentions with her. For all she knew, she was expendable.

One wrong word could be her end.

And she hadn't been turned into a vampire just to die needlessly again.

Integra's words had helped, sure. But she knew nothing about Alucard and Alley's relationship, except that he had known her for a long time, and that for some reason, he found her worth protecting. When Integra had told her that, initially, she had begun to hope that there might be a bright future in store for her. But the look on Alucard's face was draining that hope faster than any negative thoughts could.

"Are _you_ still mad at me", Alucard finally asked.

"Mad", Seras said, trying to sound guffawed. "Me, mad? I don't-"

"Playing stupid is unbecoming of a former police officer", Alucard told her flatly.

Seras felt a knot growing in her throat. Everything here felt overwhelming. Her entire existence may very well hang in the balance. And it all depended on what she said next.

She tried to swallow the knot in her throat. That helped a bit, but her eyes were still beginning to water. She glanced away.

"I'm not mad", Seras explained. "I'm just confused."

"That's normal", Alucard told her, in a surprisingly sympathetic way. "And it's normal to be mad, too. I_ hated_ my sire."

Seras snapped her eyes back at him.

"You were sired, too?"

"Well, of course", Alucard told her, a bit of mischief creeping into his voice. "Do you think I just sprang up out of the ground one day, screaming, 'Sup, fuckers?! I'm here to fuck bitches and suck blood!'?"

Actually, Seras had begun to believe something along those lines. Initially, Integra had introduced Alucard as "the first vampire", and she had wondered for a while where he had come from, and why he was the first.

"Ah, Integra's been feeding you that shit again, hasn't she", Alucard said, with something akin to disapproval in his voice. "I told her not to hype me up like that. The term 'nosferatu' had been around for thousands of years before my time."

"So, if you're not the first vampire, then who are you?"

Alucard glanced at her, the life draining from his face. Once again, he was set in stone, an immovable object.

"Who I am isn't important", Alucard told her, "what I did? Now that's important."

Alucard leaned back somewhat, closing his eyes.

"But even that pales in comparison to who Anna is, and what she's done."

"So, tell me", Seras demanded gently.

Alucard was silent for a moment.

"You see", he finally said, "I've heard that the best way to tell a story is to start at the middle, then to jump to the beginning, then to jump back to the middle, flash to the end, and then go back to the middle, and end it there, so-"

"Oh, for crying out loud", Seras yelled, "_just tell me_!"

"Ok, damn", Alucard said. "Romania, the eighteen hundreds. It was a wild land, filled with war torn countryside, armies clashing for dominance, and broke-ass peasants. Everyone was so broke, actually, that almost nobody could afford the modern weaponry that was being fielded in combat elsewhere. Skill with the sword, therefore, won the day. I had an army-"

"You had an army?!"

"Do you find that surprising?"

"That anyone would follow you? Yes, yes I do."

"Hilarious. Anyway, my army had been at war with the full might of Turkey... in fact, my army was the only thing keeping Turkey out of Romania at the time... and a Christian family called Valarious, who had made some pact or something that their entire family line wouldn't go to Heaven unless they put a stop to me. Nine generations had stood against me, and as I struck down the only son of the eighth offender, I met Anna Valarious for the first time, clutching her father's sword in her little hands, ready to kill me to defend her brother."

"Now, the sword she wielded was no ordinary sword. This sword had been specially commissioned by the first Valarious Knight, and it was made with the sole intent to destroy any vampire with a single touch. This sword was a stylized Longsword, a common sword type during those times, and for good reason, because it was damn effective at both offense and defense. It was made out of steel, interlaced with silver, triple-quenched in holy water, and then blessed by seven different holy men from seven different nations. I mean, what kind of fucking asshole goes through all that trouble just to kill a vampire? Just stab them, you fucking pussy."

Seras picked this moment to interrupt, asking, "What kind of sword did you use?"

Alucard chuckled, saying, "Indeed."

Alucard reached down to his left hip, and withdrew his sword. He held it out in front of him, allowing Seras to examine it. Seras hadn't seen many swords outside of the movies, so this one looked rather unfamiliar to her, though it looked rather ordinary for a general or king or whatever's sword. It didn't have much of anything fancy on it at all, minus a few engravings on the blade, and a handle wrapped in red leather.

"It's a Magyar saber, traditionally used in one-handed combat. If you know anything about swords, you'll notice that this particular one has a much less accented curve than a traditional Magyar, resembling more of a katana-style curve than a... well, I can tell_ you're_ lost. Just know that it works differently from Anna's sword. Her sword promotes a two-handed grip... though, if you're a badass like her, you _can_ use it one-handed... whereas my sword is specifically designed for one-handed combat. One form isn't better than the other, but two-handed swordplay is far easier than one-handed. Now, back to Anna."

He sheathed his weapon slowly and carefully, with a practiced ease, treating it like a ritual that was sacred to not just himself, but countless others.

"Anyway, basically, I murdered her entire family line, stole her childhood from her, and haunted her nightmares for the rest of her life, and we're only into when we met. First dates, amiright?"

"Of course, I'm not a fucking animal, so I let her go home with her brother, even though I knew I'd face them on the field of battle some day. She and her brother immediately started training, being coached by the best swordsmen in their military, and educated in battlefield tactics and other boring shit. Her brother ended up being the nerd of the two, and she ended up being a hot badass, kinda like Laura Croft, if Laura Croft was Christian. And led armies. And killed vampires; she was so much cooler than Laura Croft."

"Anyway, while she and her brother were growing up, I was building my army. My plan was to use select vampires whom I trusted implicitly to raise me a fodder army of ghouls, at least ten-fold stronger than my current forces. Then, I would unleash the fodder army to weaken enemy defenses, and after they were exhausted, send in my vampire vanguard to eliminate whoever remained and raise another ghoul army. It wasn't quite the tactics that I had used in previous warfare, but I had never been out to conquer before, so I had to start somewhere."

"The second time I met her, she struck a trek into Turkey for more ghouls that I was leading personally. This one's a bit more uneventful, but she killed several seasoned warriors, demonstrating her status as a threat to me, or however that fucking troupe goes. Also, we fought briefly, but got broken up by a big explosion, kinda like in that one movie that one time."

"Anyway, word reached me through 'anonymous means'... I ate someone who knew... that Anna's brother, Christopher, was searching for a 'Be All, End All' cure to vampires, specifically, me. So, of course, I_ had_ to fuck with him. I started this rumor that the only way I could be killed was by a werewolf bite, and I went_ all out _with this prank, like, I switched Vatican records around I went so hard with it. So this dumb motherfucker, he doesn't just believe it; he starts trying to_ tame live werewolves_! And of course, he gets eaten, dumbass."

"So now, I've also taken her brother from her indirectly, so Anna's_ mad_, right? Like, she 'boutta roll up on my block mad, but she's smart, so she doesn't go around trying to siege my castle or tame werewolves; instead, she calls for help."

"Enter Abraham Van Helsing, the craziest motherfucker to ever not be born in a Slavic region. This guy eats lightning and shits out more lightning that hurts even worse, and now I'm in his sights. So, he starts planning, and he starts gathering supplies, and Anna starts getting soldiers."

"Anna and Abraham's relationship was strictly professional, but it was an intimate kind of professional, you know? Like, they knew just about everything there was to know about each other, they ate together, prayed together, and trained together, but Anna never had eyes for him. Anna was only ever after some dickface named Gideon."

"But he's not important. What is important was that on September the Eleventh, 1841, Abraham and Anna, along with every soldier who was still loyal to the Valarious house, attacked my Crib, and deleted a big portion of my army. Then, they nearly got me, too, until Anna made a very big mistake."

Seras perked up again, asking, "What was that, Master?"

Alucard grimaced.

"She grabbed me from behind."

"That... that's it?"

"I was still dealing with some childhood trauma. We'll leave it at that."

"Oh... wait a minute, they got really close to beating you!"

"Oh", Alucard said with a corner of his lip turning up, "why do you assume that?"

"If they got far enough past your army to reach out and touch you, then you must have been in serious trouble! Especially because Van Helsing killed Dracula!"

Alucard raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Did he?"

"Yes, he did! He defeats him in every movie he's in!"

Alucard seemed to consider this for a moment, and then slowly nodded.

"Yes, they came really close to defeating me. But they just couldn't pull it off. Anna got smashed into a weapon rack and impaled, and Abraham... well, I took a little biblical verse and ran a little too far with it."

For a moment, the room was silent.

Hesitantly, Seras said, "And then you sired Anna?"

"Yeah, sort of."

"Why?"

"Because", he paused. "I wanted to punish her. She had spent her whole life hunting down my kind, and now she had to live as one. I thought it seemed fair."

Seras was horrified by this answer. Alucard would sire someone just to punish them? Make them walk for eternity because... because why? Because of his pride? Because of some twisted sense of justice?

Because he just wanted to?

Seras must have looked completely stricken, because Alucard asked, "What?"

"How could you?"

The words came out of her mouth before she had meant for them to. Alucard drew back, as if he had been struck, and bared his teeth.

"What do you mean", he demanded sternly.

"This whole time, I thought that there was a reason for why you sired me!"

Alucard raised an eyebrow, confusion drawing across his face.

"What do_ you_ have to do with this?"

"Exactly! I wish I fucking knew!"

"I don't understand-"

"If you want me to find a nice corner to go rot in, that's fine, but I don't want to be your puppet anymore!"

Alucard narrowed his eyes.

"Puppet?"

"All you do is punish and use people! Don't you feel_ anything_? Were you born without a soul?! Or do you just hate anything with a pulse?! Is that it?! You couldn't stand to see me alive, so you shot me and made me your-"

"GOD DAMNIT, I LOVED HER!"

Seras fell silent.

"Is that what you wanted to hear?! That I made a stupid decision based off of some stupid desire that I don't even understand?! God fucking damnit, nobody's ever fucking satisfied with the simple explanations! I loved her, alright?! And I couldn't stand to watch her die and go to Hell because of me! There, you happy?!"

Seras curled herself up further, dwelling on those words. Thoughts that she had been having on the plane ride over were suddenly rushing through her head again; _Master tries very hard not to be vulnerable. But no one can fight it forever. Everyone has to be vulnerable. Because that's what living means. And as much as death has become him, Master really is still alive._

She sniffed, wiping away the tears that had begun to well up.

"Actually", Seras said softly, "yes. I am happy."

"Well, hoo-fucking-ray. I'm gonna go call the Mercs back in. We're leaving tonight."

Seras looked up at him, questioningly.

"To go where?"

"That werewolf Anna thought she was talking to", Alucard reminded her. "She told him to meet her at the Monk's Café tonight at nine. That's where we're headed."

Alucard held out a hand to haul Seras up to her feet. She took hold of it, and yanked down on it, not moving him, but at least holding him still. Hope had been restored, somewhat. But she still had questions.

Now wasn't the time to ask questions. Clearly, Alucard was not in the mood to answer anything. Eventually, she would get her answers, one way or another.

But right now, she needed a guarantee.

"From now on", she said, "please be honest with me."

Alucard simply blankly stared at her for a moment. Then he hauled her to her feet.

"Well, if I'm being honest", he told her, "I could really..._ really_... use a drink right now."

**A/N: Unfortunately, due to complications with the Spanish Flu part 2, I have to move to a different house without a computer. This change will be for the ****foreseeable future. I apologize for the inconvenience, but more than likely, there won't be any uploads for some time. I know this comes at the worst possible time, with most of you being in quarantine without anything better to do, but that's the way it has to be. Soon as the situation changes, however, I've got some reserve chapters that'll go up quick. Until then, I will continue to write, and I will finish the story... unless the world ends. **


	13. A Midday Stroll

The fire burned in the furnace, giving light to the room around. It burned brighter and brighter, eventually revealing an occupied Laz-E-Ass chair. In the mouth of the occupant, a long tobacco pipe smoked like a locomotive, burning bright enough to reveal the face of Pootis McTootis. As the pipe caught fire, he leaned over to the nightstand, and pressed the play button on a cassette player.

"This is for Rachel, you big, fat, white, nasty-smellin' fat bitch", the player told the room.

Confused, Pootis McTootis returned his gaze to the player.

"Why you took me off the mothafuckin schedule wichyo triflin, dirty, white, racist ass, you big fat bitch", the cassette player continued.

With an exasperated shrug, Pootis McTootis grabbed another cassette.

"Oompa Loompa body-ass bitch." the cassette player continued.

Its fun was cut short by Pootis McTootis opening up the cassette deck, and inserting another tape. This time, when he closed it back up, it played Eminem's Without Me.

"Guess who's back... back again... Alley's back... tell a friend."

Pootis McTootis pushed the cassette player off of the stand before it could say more, shattering it on the ground. He pulled the still-burning pipe out of his mouth, and tossed it onto the floor.

"Yes", he told the audience, "I'm back, and fortunately, so is Alucard. Hopefully, we won't ever have another interruption like this again. The story of why I had to take a break from this is both long and stupid, so I won't tell it for the sake of everyone's sanity. What I will say is that while I was gone, I was still able to get some writing done... by hand, like a fucking neanderthal."

He held up a blue notepad, and then threw it over his shoulder. It flew through a window, smashing it to pieces.

"And while I get to work transcribing all of it, in the meantime, I've got a little treat for you all. Remember that walk that Alucard took? Well, he had himself an adventure while he was on that walk, and I'm going to spell it out for you here. On top of that, I'm gonna give you another chapter a day after this, as an apology for being late. Without further ado, let's get it."

The fire died down, leaving Pootis McTootis in the shadows again.

...

He had no idea where he was going, only that he was going. His mood was sour, his view was tunnel, and his feet were moving. His feet were moving, his teeth were grinding, and his mind was racing.

Integra. He knew right after he had called her a whore that it had been wrong. A mistake to end all mistakes, in fact. He had known her play as soon as he could step back and see how the pieces all fit together.

She hated being alone. Even though she buried that fact in her work... which even Alucard thought was a damn good excuse... she understood perfectly well how lonely she was, and, by extension, how exponentially lonely Alucard must have felt, having been alive... and alone... for far longer than she had been alive.

The problem was, even though she had grown into a real hard-ass, she sometimes had trouble separating fiction from reality... well, fantasy from reality. That had mostly been Arthur's fault; the man had filled his daughters head with stories about "true love" before he had left her, mostly because she had been a little girl when he had left her, and she had never been given the hard lesson in life that "star-crossed lovers", and "missing halves" didn't actually exist. It was partially Alucard's fault too. Occasionally, she would confide in him that she was still awaiting her knight in shining armor... and he never worked up the courage to tell her that one wasn't coming.

True, none of what she believed directly affected her work... with on glaring exception.

She thought that if Alucard had a chance to right the wrongs done to Anna, that maybe, just maybe, the two of them had a chance at a happily ever after. Because, in her mind, love still won the day, slayed the dragon, and triumphed against evil. Five hundred odd years of life had taught Alucard a very different lesson; hate wins and go fuck yourself.

He hated being mad at Integra like this. She was just trying to help, just trying to help him, even if it was stupid how she was going about it. He didn't want to be mad at her, but he couldn't deny that he was mad. He wanted to break something, to taste blood on his tongue, to kill... no, to FIGHT! Like in the old days; him, his opponent, the will to feel a fist connecting with flesh, a blunt weapon breaking bone, a sword rending, spilling blood, blood, BLOOD! Oh, the impaling when he won, watching his despised foe slide to their doom on the weight of their crimes, their failures, their very selves! To LIVE again! To FIGHT again! To be at one with the war and at war with the world! To be free of his torment, to punish the wicked for their-

SQUISH.

"GOD, DAMNIT", Alucard roared, as he observed the bottom of his shoe, "I stepped in dog shit!"

As he wiped his foot on the grass at his feet, he muttered to himself, "Fucking dogs, mangy, unthinking, bottom-feeding-"

Grass. He was standing on grass. He had left the concrete jungle, and now he was somewhere he had not yet been. Tilting his head up revealed a park, with gently rolling hills reaching up to meet a soft sunset, populated only sparsely by shade trees, the place otherwise abandoned and empty.

Save for three figures standing directly in the shade of a tree.

Alucard could smell it, their tainted blood. He knew what they were before he knew who they were. The shadows concealed their faces, but the wind revealed their nature, and their intentions. A gust of wind blew back the center vampire's coat, revealing a glint from a blade at his hip. As the sun began to crawl behind the gently rolling hills, the glint faded, and a rumbling chuckle resounded deep in Alucard's chest.

"Oh boy", Alucard proclaimed with a grin, "it's the three Stooges!"

The one to the left stepped forward first. He revealed himself in the dying light to be a young black male, thin almost to the point of emaciation. He wore a baggy shirt, a gold chain, and a wide smile that revealed sharp fangs.

"You're the funny one", Alucard declared, as he pointed the thin boy out.

The one to the right stepped forward next, revealing himself to be none other than James Braid, still alive, albeit covered in tattered clothing which revealed numerous scars and a missing arm.

"You're the stupid one", Alucard declared. He pointed to the one in the middle, saying, "Which means you must be..."

The middle figure stepped forward into the fading fingers of light to reveal a dark complexion, red robes, and a curved blade at his hip. Alucard hissed, and immediately reached for his own sword.

"The surprise", the Janissary offered.

Alucard grimaced, and released one of his restraints. His face further paled, his coat changing into one which was cut up, blackened, and covered in restraining belts. His hair grew longer, and blew behind him in the breeze.

"He said you would react like this", the Janissary told him, "that you would hate me when you saw me. I recognize the robes you wear, though they are blackened by hatred, marred by ruthlessness, and covered in the fruits of your covenant with Abraham. I see that dog beneath your skin, clawing its way out of you, its face set to tear out our throats. If you fear such a creature, then why use it?"

"Because I'm Batman, bitch", Alucard said, composing himself. "Unlike Batman, though, I ain't gonna send you to Arkham Asylum; I was thinking you'd have a much better stay in the Arkham Morgue."

"Aight, shit, I see you", the black kid said, "but I'll raise you an ass whoopin'-"

"Quiet", the Janissary chastised. He returned his attention to Alucard, and continued, "We were brothers in creed, once... Janissary... and now we are brothers in blood. Yet, still, you fight us. What justification could possibly do for such a twisted quest?"

"I don't give a fuck", Alucard said with a shrug. "Tried it once, didn't like it."

"Aight, B, I feel you", the skinny black kid said. "But I know you catch them hoes, I fuck with that-"

"Shut up", the Janissary growled. "A man who doesn't care doesn't make his enemies suffer. What do you say to that?"

"Sometimes I get bored", Alucard said with a shrug.

"Damn, nigga, just play some video games or watch porn or somethin', then-"

"Shut UP."

"Look", Alucard interjected, "we could draw out this banter for two more episodes only to have a five-minute fight, or we could skip all of that shit, you tell me who sent you, and on my Scout's Honor I'll kill you quickly."

"Scout's Honor", the Janissary repeated with a click of his tongue. "I haven't heard that one before."

"An Alucard is", Alucard began, "Trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent. And you bet your ass he came to work strapped", he added, drawing the Magyar from its sheath.

"I lost an arm to you", James said. I'm here for blood."

"I heard yo ass was fast", the black kid interjected. "Bitch, I've been outrunnin' the 5-Oh since I was five, and I'm here to take my crown back."

"Our way is to keep the creed", the Janissary said. "To become apostate is to deserve death."

Alucard remembered a story he had heard from a young man who he had run into while he had been doing a job. He had told him a story that was oddly reminiscent of what the Janissary had just said to him. The boy's friend had become a Christian, denouncing Allah, and had raced home to tell his father, because he loved his father very much. When he had finished telling his father about Jesus, his father told him that he would give him a five-minute head start... out of respect. The boy had run to America out of fear for his life. A month later, he got a letter from his father, telling him that he wanted him to come home and tell him about Jesus, telling him that he wanted to learn about the love he had been shown. When the boy arrived home, his own father shot him over seventy times with an AK47.

This was the religion that had slaughtered his people.

This was the religion that had chained him to a wall and tortured him endlessly.

This was the motherfucking religion of peace.

Alucard began to chuckle. The chuckling spilled into deep laughter. He threw his head back as evil laughter thundered across the hills, booming in the ears of his foes.

He lifted his sword, shouting, "I hoped you would say that!"

The one who had claimed to be fast flanked left, and Alucard had to admit, he didn't disappoint; the kid was easily faster than Kibbles 'n Bitch, clearing a perfect flank almost as fast as Alucard could blink. The kid drew an old-fashioned drum-mag laden Tommy Gun from behind his baggy shirt, and laid on the trigger, emptying the whole magazine in one go.

Alucard, not one to be outdone, especially down a level, swiped his sword quickly through the air, destroying every bullet sent his way; the last bullet, he caught between his teeth, shattering it with a satisfying crunch.

Too late, he realized that the kid had been a distraction. A bronze knife sunk into his shoulder, and he grunted, throwing an elbow, shattering James' nose. He spun around to swipe with the sword, but James had already beat a hasty retreat, making way for the Janissary.

Alucard brought his Magyar up just in time to deflect a downward strike aimed at his head. He spun, letting the Janissary's sword slide off his own, and leveled a strike at the Janissary's exposed back. The Janissary dodged, receiving only a glancing blow from Alucard's strike, cutting his flesh, but doing no real damage.

By then, the Janissary had retreated for a second attack from the Tommy gun wielding boy wonder. But as he brought the sub gun up, Alucard grabbed the handle of his Casul, firing through the holster and his coat. The boy's right hand was nearly severed by the massive round. He howled in pain, almost drowning out James yelling, "Switch!"

The boy threw the Tommy gun, and James threw the knife, giving Alucard enough time to sheath his sword, and draw his two handcannons. The Janissary was forced to press the attack in to maintain momentum, and he came in with the downward strike once more. Alucard crossed his chrome-plated cannons, catching the sword with ease. He tried to angle his pistols to get a shot off on the Janissary, but by then, James had the Tommy up, and was firing.

A round struck the Janissary in the shoulder, and he grunted, retreating quickly to allow Alucard to be shredded. However, he only got about half of the mag off before the kid began advancing for a stab through the neck. Alucard, having heard him coming, routed power to his legs, skipped out of the way, and fired his Casul again as he passed by. A dark, red hole appeared in the kid's head, and he fell to his knees.

The battlefield paused for a moment to observe the young vampire bring his hand up to his head, feeling his wound. Amazingly enough, the bullet didn't crumble or tumble through the brain, leaving it mostly intact, leaving his memories intact as well. Alucard grinned, and advanced on the kid, preparing to drain him quickly for information.

"Damn", the black kid said, "ni-"

A flash sliced through the boy's head, destroying his brain. His body crumpled to the ground at the feet of the Janissary, whose blade was covered in vampire blood. The Janissary advanced quickly on Alucard, barely giving him enough time to cross his pistols to block a chest-leveled strike. Alucard found a pistol lined up, and fired his Casul, punching into the Janissary's arm. The Janissary gave a yelp, and twirled back around for an opposing strike. Once again, Alucard caught the strike, and fired Jackal, taking a chunk out of the Janissary's other arm. The Janissary cried out, and went for an overhead strike. Alucard crossed his pistols, catching the strike, and followed the Janissary's momentum downward, firing his silverballers, and putting gashes into the Janissary's sides.

As the Janissary's sword aligned for a chest-high thrust, Alucard could hear James getting a running start from behind the Janissary. As he tried to suppress a grin, he lifted Jackal to get a lethal shot off on the Janissary. The Janissary used the opportunity to thrust, pushing his sword through Alucard's chest. At the same time, James came soaring overhead, leveling the Tommy gun at Alucard, and depressing the trigger. As the heavy .45 caliber rounds tore into him, the grin he had been suppressing spread across his face. His face morphed, his sharp teeth stretching out along a long, black muzzle. The Hellhound lunged forth, catching James mid-air, and ripping his throat out.

Alucard landed on his feet, once again clothed in his red coat. James fell gracelessly behind him, in a crumpled heap, and almost immediately after connecting with the ground, turned to red ash. Alucard lifted his head to meet the Janissary's gaze, and was almost caught off guard by the idiot charging him.

He waxed off with Jackal, and fired Casul, punching a round into the Janissary's midsection. The Janissary howled, and swung again. Alucard blocked with Casul, and fired with Jackal. Another bloody hole was torn into the Janissary's abdomen. He ignored it, and spun for another attack. Alucard fired a round into the bottom of the Janissary's blade, shooting the majority of it straight off. With the jagged end, the Janissary thrusted. Alucard stepped out of the Janissary's guard, wrapped his arm around the Janissary's, and forced a pistol up under his armpit, firing a round that took meat out of the Janissary's collarbone. The Janissary's arm went limp, but his hand still held the hilt of the broken sword. Alucard rectified this by twisting the Janissary's wrist, breaking it in half. The hilt landed softly on the ground.

Alucard stepped back into the Janissary's guard, pushing a pistol up against where the Janissary's spleen would be.

"You ain't shit", he said, as he fired a round, popping the organ, and spreading poison throughout the chest cavity. The Janissary howled in pain. Alucard moved the pistol over to where one of the kidneys would be.

"Your god ain't shit", he continued, firing the pistol, and spreading more poison in the Janissary's body. The Janissary howled again. Alucard moved the pistol over to the liver.

"And your creed ain't shit", Alucard concluded, popping the liver with a .454.

The Janissary gave a long, painful moan, and went limp in Alucard's grasp. Alucard allowed him to fall to his knees. Alucard towered over him like evil incarnate, a nasty grin on his face, the raising moon outlining his figure.

"And now, I'm going to read your mind-"

"By drinking all of my blood", the Janissary finished in the form of a question. "I don't think so. I have been bound by spells, by fail-safes. All you would get is misinformation."

Alucard cracked his neck, and rolled his shoulders.

"We'll see."

"No, we won't", the Janissary told him. "You have bested me. The least you deserve is information."

"Because might makes right with you sick fucks", Alucard said with a sneer.

"All I have time to give is a name", the Janissary told him, "the name of the one who sent us."

"Out with it, then."

"His name is Ca-"

The Janissary began choking, and blood frothed out of his mouth.

Alucard tsked, muttering, "Fucking drama queen, stop dragging it out, I don't have all night."

Suddenly, Alucard began to sense another presence. He brought his guns up just as the Janissary was lifted into the air. Alucard wheeled around, searching for the source of the mysterious entity.

Alucard had never quite felt anything like this before; he had fought Incognito and Rasputin, both of whom had been incredibly powerful, and both of whom had nearly defeated him. But those two felt like a loving couple who ran a pastry shop compared to what he was feeling now. The air practically crackled with power.

He turned back to see the Janissary suspended spread-eagle in the air. The Janissary's legs began twisting, and the Janissary screamed as the bones in them cracked, and the muscles tore.

"HIS NAME", the Janissary screamed, as his legs were ripped from his torso.

The Janissary's arms twisted, the decrepit one ripping straight off and falling limply to the ground. The Janissary's head began twisting around.

"HIS NAME IS CAI-"

The Janissary's head twisted off of his body, and what remained of his corpse dissolved into red ash. The wind carried the ashes away, leaving Alucard alone in the empty field. The presence faded away with the ashes.

Alucard held his hands up, saying, "Look, I don't fuck with this shit, and I've got stuff to do anyway. How about I leave, and we call it even?"

He received no reply, except for the wind blowing gently around him.

"Well, then", Alucard said, "screw you guys, I'm going home."

Alucard turned, and walked back towards his apprentice... and towards destiny.

...

The light returned to the dark room, revealing the back of the Laz-E-Ass chair.

"Oh, damnit", Pootis McTootis chastised himself, "face the audience, idiot."

Pootis McTootis spun his chair around, knocking over his nightstand. It fell to the ground, the friction of the wood striking the wooden floor creating a spark, and lighting the floor on fire. Pootis McTootis observed the fire growing for a brief moment.

"Meh, I'll deal with it later", he said with a shrug.

He returned his view to the audience, saying, "As for you all, I want to let you in on a few little secrets, since I trust you all so much."

He reached into his coat, and pulled out a small notepad. He put his monocle up to his eye, and began reading.

"First and foremost, that one Mass Effect story I mentioned I was looking for, I found it, it's called Mass Defect. It's just as funny as when I first found it, by the way."

He threw the notepad over his shoulder, and continued, "Furthermore, I have plans for a series of short stories about Alucard's misadventures after he got back from his thirty-year nap. I've got story one already done, but I can't give you a sneak peek without spoiling this one, so you'll just have to trust me on it. After this story is all done, if you enjoyed it, you may want to drop in occasionally to see if any of these stories have been published, or however that works."

He withdrew a bottle of Adderall from his coat, pulled the top off, and downed everything inside. He threw the bottle over his shoulder, into the raging inferno that used to be his kitchen.

"And on that note, I'd like to address another point in particular; established cannon, both in Hellsing and in Dracula. First of all, Helsing is spelled with one L, not two, and that's the way I'm gonna spell it. There are a few new character additions, and Alucard's origin story is going to change big-time, not because I don't like the way Hellsing handles it, but because I hate the way Braum Stoker treats Dracula in his original book. So, sorry if that's not what you wanted, but that's what I've got my heart set on. This story is about Vlad Tepes III, not Dracula, and not Alucard. Alucard and Hellsing are just a vessel."

As he finished his sentence, he withdrew a small tin from his coat, and opened it up, revealing several tablets of Pervitin. He picked them all up, and threw them into his mouth. He swallowed like a pro, and tossed the tin into the furnace.

"And yes, we will be seeing more of our beloved catboy. In fact, he will end up playing a rather pivotal roll... and we may even get some back story on him. Maybe. I dunno."

"Yes, Anna Valarious shares the same name as that woman from that really shitty Van Helsing movie were Hugh Jackman can't figure out what his accent is. No, it's not the same story; that one sucked."

"Trust me, I'll expand on Seras' newfound power."

"Werewolves are similar to Hellsing but with many more variants, a few of which I dredged up from historical records."

"It may seem like I'm being incredibly hateful to anyone who follows the teachings of Islam, and that _is_ on purpose. I know in the current climate that's bound to lose me followers, and I personally don't really care about Islam and don't hate the people who follow it. However, Vlad Tepes has a very dark past with Islam, and that's the message that I wish to convey when Alucard says or thinks something mean and hurtful. To that effect, all of the stories of atrocities that Alucard occasionally hears are true stories that I've heard. I'm well aware that you can't judge a bushel by a few bad apples, but Alucard isn't willing to be that open-minded, which, after what happened to him, is understandable. I'm not trying to justify what's been written down, or distance myself from it, and I'm certainly not doing a DaNIeL kEEm dIDnT sAY thOsE tHIngS, I'm just letting you know why it is the way it is."

"Yes, I will call the fire department, but only after I get my damn XBox Scarlet."

"And before ANY of that, I want to say that I am shocked at how many views I got while this whole thing was unfolding... and by the fact that no one unfollowed me. You guys are the absolute best. Thank you all so much for your support and input. You all really make this worth it for me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make a phone call."

Pootis McTootis picked up the old rotary phone by the chair, and began punching in numbers. He put the receiver up to his ear, and began talking.

"Hello, 911? Yes, I'd like to report a fire... why yes, it is rather lovely weather we're having!"


	14. Chapter 11: Denying the Past

_Equipment means nothing. If you can't use it, don't bother buying it. If you want to go hunting down vampires, you need to train. Why do you think I've trained every Helsing child in some form or another ever since Abraham decided to take this lost dog in? Sword fighting, martial arts, gunplay, thousand-man army tactics, one-man army tactics, stealth, skills are the only thing that will save you, so I gave them everything I had. You can lose equipment, and you can have the best equipment in the world and still get raped by a honey badger if you're not careful. You want to fight? Don't buy a good sword 'til you know how to use a shitty one. That means you, Richard, you shitcock! Learn your fucking guards, dumbass! _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 11: Denying the Past

The exterior of the bar was drenched in darkness. The sun had slipped beyond the horizon roughly three hours ago, and a full moon was just beginning to creep up behind it, throwing pale colors all over the otherwise normal looking establishment. An almost ominous feeling began to weave its way through the group of men and vampires who waited by the front door, especially when their leader, the tall man in red, couldn't seem to move forward any more.

Seras placed a hand gently on Alucard's shoulder, saying, "It's ok, Master. We can leave if you want to."

That drew strange glances from the Mercs, but Alucard didn't notice, his gaze fixed upon the door. He drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"Integra's right", he replied. "Time to put a stop to this."

Seras nodded.

"Maybe me and the Mercenaries can go in first, and then you can come in after us?"

"Good idea", Alucard agreed... far too quickly for Pip's liking. "She's probably watching the door. She might bolt if she sees me."

Alucard reached down to his left hip, and withdrew his sword, and passed it to Seras. Seras held her hands up. She didn't know the first thing about swords, and she was smart enough to know that if you don't know it, you don't use it in a life-and-death situation.

"I don't want you to shoot her", Alucard told Seras. "If you have to pull this out, she might surrender when she sees it."

Seras hesitated for a moment more.

"Where am I supposed to put this?"

"Prison wallet", Alucard replied nonchalantly.

"Dude, what the fuck", one of the Americans, the mid-westerner, asked in disgust.

"I fucked your sister", Alucard responded without so much as a turn of the head.

"Seriously", Seras asked.

"Well", Alucard thought. "Just tuck it into a pant leg or something for now. That's totally not sword-safety, but whatever. It's not like we're doing HEMA."

"What's HEMA?"

"I have neither the time, nor the patience, to explain any of that shit. Just take the sword."

Seras smirked, unable to resist saying, "Anything for a man in love."

Alucard scowled, and some curious glances were directed from the Mercs. To avoid any further verbal lashings, Seras carefully reached out, grabbing the sword by the handle. She quickly pulled it to her, examining it for herself. Ignoring a grunt from Alucard, she took note of the intricate carvings on the blade. They didn't look like a random pattern; they seemed like every line was carved carefully in line with the next, in order to give each character its own specific meaning.

It wasn't any language she recognized, and she had seen a lot of them as a police officer; Japanese and Chinese Kanji, Ancient Gaelic, even Ancient Samarian once when they had responded to a call about someone sacrificing their own son to the Devil. But this was unlike any of those.

And yet, it was strangely familiar... it seemed to flow through her open eyes and into her mind... if she were to open her mouth, she could speak it easily-

"What the hell, Police Girl", Alucard grunted.

Turning her eyes back to him, Seras noticed that her Master's hand had a deep gash right through the palm. It didn't take a genius to figure out where it had come from.

"Oh my god", She yelled, "I'm so sorry!"

"Situational awareness, Police Girl", Alucard chastised.

"You need a bandage", Post Malone asked.

"Nope", Alucard said, using dark power to stitch himself together. "I brought my own."

The wound in his hand closed quickly. He flexed his hand to work out the stiffness, and then returned it to his side.

Frankly, even in Seras' opinion, that should have been enough indication to Alucard that giving Seras his sword had been a mistake. Had he been thinking straight, he might have plucked it from her hands, replaced it to the rift, and led the operation like a man. But he wasn't thinking straight. He was thinking about Anna.

"Alright, you guys go on in", Alucard told the group. "I'll follow in a moment."

The Mercs shared a quick glance with one another, followed by quick nods. Then they all began congregating around Seras, working themselves into a shielding screen. Seras, confused, glanced over at Pip.

"You're not tucking that into your waistband", Pip said with a smirk. "Just keep it low. We'll take care of the rest."

Seras thought about it for a moment. Pip was right; despite what Master had said, this sword was far too long and rigid to be hidden effectively in her pant leg. She needed additional input, and support, and Pip had just given her both.

"Thank you", She told Pip.

He tipped his hat in response.

"Alright, here's how we'll run this", the Californian said. "Six-gun, you're on door detail. I'll come in first, Pest will come in last, and Police Girl and Pip will play the couple."

Pip groaned.

"Best thing to hide that blade is a body, sir, and let's be fair, you've been hittin' the baguettes a lot recently."

"Yeah, yeah", Pip said, waving a hand in dismissal.

He walked up to Seras, and held his arm out at an angle, resembling a hook. Tentatively, Seras hooked her own arm through his. They squeezed in tighter together, and almost immediately, Seras began to blush. She hadn't been in contact with someone like this since her days at the orphanage, when she had met another little boy, and, in the way that children sometimes did, decided to get "married". Back then it had been innocent, pure, unadulterated and childlike love, and now those feelings came rushing back to her. For a moment, she wondered if this was how Master had felt when he had met Anna.

She tried to turn her head and breath calmly, but the Californian tapped her on the shoulder, giving her a wicked grin.

"No, no, keep the blush", he told her. "It really sells it!"

"Ah, fuck off, Cali Swag", Pip said dismissively. "Let's just get this over with, huh?"

"R-right", Seras said, cursing herself for stuttering.

She put the sword through a loop in her pants, the blade protruding behind Pip's legs, but not enough to be noticeable. The handle fit snug behind her back. it would be an awkward draw if she needed it quickly, but this was Master's idea, not hers.

The group advanced on the rather upscale bar, Post Malone... Six-gun... making his way to the front of the group, and pushing the door open in front of them, inviting them in with a gesture. The Californian... Cali Swag... walked through first, tipping an imaginary hat to the southerner. He extended the middle finger of the hand at his side. Next came Pip and Seras. She did her best to sell it, even giving him a soft, "Thank you". Pip gave him a small sideways smile. The mid-westerner... Pest... came in last, raising an eyebrow at Six-gun. He received the same finger that Cali Swag had gotten. As soon as the group moved through the door, Six-gun closed it behind them, and followed them to a table in the middle of the room.

The place was crowded, full of lively, jubilant people, waitresses taking orders, and trashy rock music emanating from a modern-looking jukebox.

When they had all taken their seats, Pip across from Seras, and the other men taking seats with drunk customers nearby, Seras began searching the room. From her sitting position, at the tables, at least, she couldn't see any women who looked particularly suspicious.

She swept the room with her eyes again, this time falling on Pip. Immediately, the color began returning to her face. The way Pip was situated, it almost seemed to Seras as if she were on her first date. He sold it quite well, occasionally looking up from his menu to take quick glances at Seras, a confident and lively smile on his face each time.

She quickly looked away, her gaze unwittingly falling on a collective of people by the bar. There was one burly man that caught her attention initially, almost as if he simply carried a bad aura, and as Seras opened her nostrils for another breath, she caught that horrid stench of festering wet dog.

She cringed inwardly, and averted her gaze from his back... and froze completely. Sitting to the werewolf's left was a woman, who had an untouched glass beer mug on the counter in front of her, with striking reddish gold hair. Her beautiful crystal blue eyes had been dulled with death and hatred, and her mouth was tucked into an almost permanent frown, but there was no mistaking it. She was staring at the woman she had seen in the vision.

And, she suspected, Anna Valarious.

Her stomach twisted into knots, and heat began to build in her loins, frothing up to her cheeks. She had never felt this way about anyone, ever, and she suspected that she may be attracted to her in a sexual way. More than likely, her brain was associating the feelings that not-Gideon had felt for her with her own desires. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

Speaking of uncomfortable, Anna was now looking right at her, an eyebrow raising above her eyes.

Seras had been taught how to tail people in the Force, and the first thing she had been told was to never be the first to look away. Generally, the preferred method of officers was to begin picking their nose. That way, whoever you were looking at would just assume that you were some jerk picking your nose and ignore you. However, Seras didn't think she could bring herself to shove one of her leather gloves into her nostrils, so instead, she bunched her mouth up into an obnoxious smile, and gently waved her hand. Generally, if you smiled at someone, they had a hard time believing that you had bad intentions for them.

Anna scoffed, and looked away, unmoved. Seras mentally breathed a sigh of relief. That could have been a complete disaster. Speaking of disasters, what was Anna _wearing_? Tactical cargo pants that looked like they had been rubbed raw in some places by a holster, and a long-sleeved black shirt? What a terrible outfit! Although, the cargo pants did accentuate her hips rather nicely...

Seras shook her head, and quickly returned her attention to Pip. She had to tell him about Anna, but how was she going to do that without giving herself away?

The answer that came to her almost made her slap her palm into her forehead.

She leaned in close to Pip, shielding her mouth with a hand, and said, in a much louder voice than someone who should be whispering, "Get a load of that woman's outfit! She looks like she stumbled out of a homeless shelter!"

Pip casually glanced over at Anna, in time to see Anna turn a gaze on him. He grinned maliciously, and returned his look to Seras. The look in his eyes was a knowing one, but Seras didn't allow herself to look relieved.

"Do you think she went out in public like that on purpose", he asked rather loudly.

"Pip, be_ nice_", she said in mock disbelief.

Out of the corner of her eye, Seras could see Anna frown, and shake her head, returning her gaze to sweeping across the open room.

She glanced over at the Jukebox, and to her surprise, her Master was hovering around it, intently staring at the selections. After a moment, he pushed his finger down on a button, and the machine began whirring. He turned to face Anna, his angle placing him at her back.

_"I don't want to set the world on fire..."_

He took a deep breath, and began moving towards her.

_"I just want to start..."_

He walked right up to her backside.

_"A flame in your heart..."_

He put a hand on her shoulder.

To Anna's credit, she didn't even look surprised. If anything, she looked annoyed. She glanced over her shoulder, and huffed.

"Hello, Alucard."

"Anna."

"I haven't seen you since the Great War."

"So", Alucard hesitated, "long time, no see?"

Anna stayed quiet for a moment. She turned her gaze away with a hiss. Coincidentally, the man who smelled of wet dog next to her stood up and walked away.

"I suppose so", she said. she waved a hand at the now empty chair, saying, "Sit down."

Alucard knew that he most definitely should not sit down. Every instinct was screaming at him that this was a trap. Yet, the music was beginning to get to him.

_"I've lost all ambition of worldly acclaim..."_

He took his seat on the little stool, carefully distributing his weight so that he could shoot right off the chair if need be.

_"I just wanna be the one you love..."_

"So", Anna began, fiddling with her mug, "you're here for a reason, I presume."

"I'd certainly think so", Alucard said, trying to wave his hand to get the bartender's attention. "Frankly, I'm pretty sure that you're hanging around furfags for a reason, too."

"You haven't lost that foulness in your mouth, I see", Anna remarked in contempt, wrinkling her nose.

"I call it like I see it", Alucard replied bluntly. "To me, werewolves look like furfags. And you look like you're trying to change the subject."

"I won't tell you anything unless you tell me something first", Anna told him sharply. "It is a man's job to begin conversing with a woman."

"Technically, I did say, 'long time no see'", Alucard reminded her. "Also, I'll just ignore the fact that you left 'gentle' out of 'gentleman'."

"Now, we have a fool fooling themselves into believing they can fool others as much as they fool themselves", Anna said. As Alucard tried to navigate that tongue-tied minefield, Anna continued, "You are no 'gentleman', Alucard. You're hardly a man."

Alucard stretched his hand out across the bar, saying, "I don't think I need to remind you that you're really in no position to judge the humanity of-"

A knife, the blade infused with blessed silver, smashed into the top of his left hand, pinning him to the bar, and burning through his pierced skin.

"Fuckballs", Alucard cursed, finishing the phrase just as Anna's beer mug was smashed into his face.

In his dazed state, he missed Anna sprinting off towards the back door. But he definitely noticed when the burly werewolf that had left a moment ago grabbed him by the back of his head, and slammed him full-force into the bar. Through that haze, he sensed Police Girl sprint for the backdoor as well, and he allowed himself a long grin.

He heard the_ sluff _of a metal blade being pulled from a sheath, and he took this time to reach out with his legs, hooking them behind one of the werewolf's. The action stumbled him, getting him close enough for Alucard to reach out and grab him by the throat. He pushed him up underneath him, forcing his weight on top of him, and let go of his neck, yanking a .454 from its holster, and pushing the barrel straight up to the werewolf's forehead.

He pulled the trigger in a smooth motion, splattering brain matter all over the laminate wood furniture. The creature managed to hold a startled look on its face, despite the matter leaking out of its head.

"Down, bitch", Alucard shouted.

As the creature began to slide down the bar, crumpling into a heap on the ground, the screams began sounding in the establishment. People hid under tables as Alucard was finally able to pry his hand up from the bar, taking the knife with it. He replaced the .454 to its holster, and yanked the knife out of the wound by the handle.

He had impeccable timing. As the blade left his skin and the burning began to subside, the door to the men's bathroom burst open, and a large man who stank of wet dog stood in the doorway, wearing black body armor, and cradling a heavily modified AKM. Alucard, on reflex, threw the knife at the werewolf. It pierced the Kevlar armor, sinking deeply into his chest. He never even got the chance to fire his rifle.

Thinking quickly to eliminate a potential threat, the Mercs, who all had their weapons out and trained, unloaded their cartridges into the hapless creature, sending his body jerking and twisting like he was having a seizure. Alucard, never one to miss out on fun, drew his own pistol, and fired five separate shots that eventually decapitated the man-monster. His lifeless body sunk to the ground, and the fight was over.

"Yaw, slice", Alucard called out to the nearest Merc, "quick bounce with the slippers, dawg!"

He sprinted for the backdoor, hoping he would be in time to save his fledgling apprentice. A confused batch of Mercs quickly followed, not ones to wish for an extended trip to the slammer.

...

Seras followed closely behind the beautiful woman, fumbling with the sword that was looped through her pants. The woman ran with a deft grace that made her seem more like she was skating on an ice rink before grand old judges, than running through a stinky, trash-covered alleyway. She avoided mystery bags with graceful leaps and quick dodges, making Seras think that she was a poacher chasing after an out of season doe.

Seras jumped over a group of trash bags, still surprising herself with how easy the action was. She was so much stronger, bounds more agile, and incredibly more powerful than she had ever been as a mortal girl. She felt like she finally had the advantage over the world that she needed, and yet, she couldn't help but to think about what it might ultimately cost her.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as Anna came to a quick halt. In front of her, the alleyway terminated in a brick wall. To her immediate right was a dumpster. The lid was propped slightly open, and something was sticking out of it. Anna didn't turn to look at Seras as she too came screeching to a halt.

She extended the sword in her right hand, pointing the tip at Anna, and shouted, "Surrender, Anna Valarious! You have nowhere else to run!"

Anna glanced over her shoulder, fixing Seras with a glare from her one eye. Seras' legs turned to jelly, and her throat dried up. The heat returned to her loins.

Anna stared at her, drawing her eye up and down Seras slowly, taking in every minute detail about her. Seras' own eyes began to wonder as well, taking in Anna's figure in a much less cold and calculating sense.

"Not you", Anna finally said, in a thick Romanian accent that melted Seras' heart.

"S-sorry?"

"It wasn't supposed to be you who followed me, unlucky girl."

After she said this, she reached out her right arm, and grabbed the thing that was protruding from the dumpster. She slowly pulled on it, and it in turn slowly worked itself from its sheath, hidden by the lid, revealing itself under the moonlight.

As the blade continued to reveal its massive length, Seras observed in absolute awe. She didn't know the first thing about swords, and this sword didn't look particularly fancy, but she could tell that time, effort, and faith had gone into this sword in equal measure. Even the dull moonlight glinted off of its form, giving it a brief radiance that seemed to affect a silver glow from the blade. At its full protrusion, the length of the blade was a full meter long, more than half as tall as Anna. It looked massive next to her figure... and it made her look all the more imposing, as she turned to face Seras, with the sword at her side.

"There are only two who have ever bested me", Anna continued, bringing the blade up into an upper guard position. "Alucard was one of them. Defeating him was my goal tonight."

The sword was held firmly above the left side of her head, the blade pointed downwards, towards Seras' chest. A scowl crossed Anna's face, as she took an offensive step forward. Seras, uncertain of what she had gotten herself into, took a cautious step back.

"You", Anna said with a sneer, "are just collateral damage."

Anna swept the sword around, aiming for a chest high strike. Seras, on reflex, brought her sword in a lateral line of defense, facing the blade towards the offending attacker. It clanged as metal met metal, and repelled the attack. For a moment, Seras was so caught up in the fact the she wasn't dead that she almost missed the strike aiming for her head. She ducked quickly, and, almost reflexively, shot up with a strike aimed at Anna's neck. Anna didn't even change her expression, deftly moving so that the sword barely missed her, following the blade with her eyes. She brought her own sword up underneath Seras's hands, barely missing her fingers, and loosening her grip enough to throw the sword from her hands.

The sword flew from her, exiting her vision behind her. Seras' next sight was of Anna's sword slicing up towards her exposed chest. Terrified, Seras stood frozen, unsure of what to do, and how to act.

The clang of metal was the only vision she received as her sight was blocked by Alucard sliding in front of her at inhuman speeds. Anna slid back, dust pushed up from her boot heels, until she came to rest with her back against the dead end wall. She tipped her head up to see her newest challenger, setting her face for combat.

Alucard stood to his full height, his sword sitting lazily at his side, his wicked grin covering his face in sharp, glistening teeth. Seras thought that the grin looked particularly forced.

"Oh, Anna, my Anna", Alucard said. "Once again, we meet on the field of combat. Once again, we find you on the wrong side of the battlefield."

Anna had herself pulled up into an overhead guard position, this time situated on the left side of her head.

Seras decided that this was a good time to start making herself scarce. She began taking tentative steps back, not wanting to draw attention to herself.

"And once again", Anna said, "we find ourselves determining the victor by the power of the sword."

"Really", Alucard asked, in an exacerbated tone. "No justifications for why you're hanging out with furfags in what I can only assume is an orgy den?"

"I do not need to justify myself to you", Anna sneered.

"Hey, here's a good idea; let's join the B.E.F_ post_ Turning! That'll turn out good! They definitely won't have any ambitions past an obscure goal that may or may not even be achievable considering the goal is to kill a powerful vampire who may or may not even be alive?!"

"Dracula_ is _alive", Anna shouted, rage coursing through her so hard that she began shaking, "and I_ must _destroy him! For my family's sake!"

"Oh, that dumbass thing with your 'family'. Give them a rest, will ya?!"

Anna screamed at the top of her lungs, her face contorted into that of rage, and charged at Alucard, slashing her sword downwards. Alurcard easily blocked the attack, and reached his sword around behind Anna's back, forcing her to readjust her guard for a quick deflection. She shoved the sword off of her guard, and pirouetted with the action, reversing the movement Alucard had done to expose Alucard's own backside.

Surprisingly, Alucard went with the motion, spinning so that his back seemed exposed. Anna took her opportunity, slashing down at the exposed back, but Alucard reversed his grip behind his back, flourishing the blade around to deflect the attack, and spinning his grip and the rest of his body around to lay a heavy strike at Anna's side. She brought her guard back in to deflect the strike, sending sparks flying in every direction.

Anna now had her back to a clear opening for escape, and Alucard had his own back towards the dead end of the alleyway. Clearly, the only direction Alucard had was forward, and that's where he went. Anna crouched, and made an upward slash, aiming for Alucard's abdomen. Instead of blocking, Alucard jumped, cartwheeling slowly through the air, and slashing downward at Anna's head. She brought her sword up barely in time, unable to make her guard position rigid, the hard strike stumbling her.

Alucard landed on his feet, curling up like a spring, and sprinting forward, slashing across the chest. Anna twirled, bringing her sword up, but once again, unable to make her guard rigid in time. The sword flew from her hands, clattering off the wall to her left.

Alucard's Magyar was inches from Anna's throat an instant later.

"Give it up, Anna", Alucard said coolly. "I'll open you up if I have to."

Anna stared down Alucard, defiance her defining feature. Her crystal blue eyes stared into striking red ones with the sharpness of a delicately cared for treasure sword. Red eyes returned the sharpness, with barely contained fire in their structure.

Slowly, Anna raised her hands up, showing Alucard her open palms.

Alucard almost seemed relieved to Seras. Especially so when the Mercenaries came running up the alleyway behind them, their boots clattering on the ground, dashing trash away with swift kicks. All of them fanned out to cover the mouth of the alleyway, leveling their arms and making escape impossible.

"Cuff her", Alucard said, to no one in particular.

Six-gun was the first one to move forward, carrying a pair of silver-plated cuffs. Alucard grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He turned a curious eye in return.

"Not those", Alucard told him. "Use the regular ones."

Six-gun raised an eyebrow at that, but he quickly replaced the silver-plated cuffs to his jacket pocket without another word, producing a police-issue pair instead. He advanced on her hesitantly, grabbing one of her wrists, and jerking it around behind her back. She offered no resistance, allowing herself to be shackled, refusing to break eye contact with Alucard all the while.

"Alright", Alucard said, as Six-gun trained his weapon and began backing up to fill the gap, "why don't we start with an explanation?"

"You know why", Anna sneered.

"Of course I know why", Alucard said. "I'm just trying to start with something easy."

"You just want me to give up my crusade", she countered. "You just want to see me suffer!"

"No I don't", Alucard said defensively. "I want you to give this up before you get killed!"

"And waste your time?!"

"I wasn't going to say that out loud, but essentially, yes."

"I see through you, little man", Anna said, sparing a moment to glance up and down him. "You claim to be hunting vampires, but you won't say why. You do glorious work, but you wear blasphemies."

As she said this, she glanced down at his gloves.

"You're a wolf in sheep's clothing, Alucard, and the only one you're fooling otherwise is yourself."

"We're not talking about me, here", Alucard told her, dropping his tone. "What about you? You claim to be fighting to get your family to Heaven, but here you are, frolicking with werewolves like you're in a pet shelter! Do you remember what happened to your brother? Because I do! You won't get them to Heaven if you're in a wolf's belly!"

Anna hissed, taking a step back.

"Oh, I'm not done", Alucard said, power returning to his voice. "You claim to be your own warrior, but you're just being used like a puppet! Remember the B.E.F? They saw your skill and thought you could beat me! They didn't give a shit about Dracula! No one does! _He's dead_!"

"HE'S NOT DEAD", Anna roared. "I _know_ he's not dead!"

"And how do you know that, huh?! What makes you so certain?!"

"I just", Anna began, gritting her teeth... which Seras could only now see didn't contain any large canines in their ranks... and fell silent.

"Want to know how I know he's dead", Alucard asked her.

Her head snapped up, fixing him with a cautious, if accusing glare.

Alucard struck a pose, his grin growing wider across his face.

"Because you're looking at the man who killed him."


	15. Chapter 12: Out of Order

_"Along came a spider, who sat down beside her, said, 'Ay, what's in the bowl, bitch?'" Well, I'll tell you what's in the bowl; a web of lies, with me at its center. I can protect Anna, but to do that, I need to keep my distance... and hide the truth... at ALL costs. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 12: Out of Order

Seras, for one, had so many questions. In fact, she had so many questions that she had to think for a moment about which ones she wanted to ask first. But as she finally opened her mouth to ask away, a hearty laugh, one like bells ringing in a church choir, sounded off from Anna. She had doubled over, laughing so hard that she had to keep her eyes closed. Her laughter carried on for almost a minute, before she finally glanced up.

"You", she said laughter mixing with disbelief. "You, you weak-willed little man, _you_ killed Dracula?!"

"Yes, I did", Alucard said, taking Anna's laughter in stride. "After his battle with you, he was left all alone in his degraded castle. He looked so sad. So, I crept up behind him and devoured him. He is dead."

"How stupid do you think I am?!"

"Stupid enough to believe that?"

"Clearly", Anna said, standing up to her full height again. Seras noted that Anna was taller than her, but she was still dwarfed by Alucard. She turned an eyebrow up to him, asking sarcastically, "My God, you're serious?"

"I am", Alucard told her. "Anna, Dracula is dead."

"Psh", she said, rolling her eyes, unconvinced.

"And even if he wasn't", Alucard told her, "you're playing into his game."

Anna glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow once again.

"He fed off desperation", Alucard explained. "It's how he won his wars. He made his enemies desperate, and then he built walls they couldn't assail right before them, even though they could have walked around them. But they tried to scale those walls in their desperation, and they failed every time. And that's how he defeated every enemy."

"What does that have to do with me", Anna said, casually glancing around at the dead-end alleyway where she stood.

"He's made you desperate", Alucard explained. "And now you're trying to scale the wall of finding him by building an army you can't control."

Alucard let those words sink in for a moment. Seras drank in the situation, in the distance, she could hear car horns honking, she could hear a crowd of people gathering outside of the bar, and she could see that Anna Valarious seemed to truly be considering what Alucard was saying.

"Look" Alucard said, "if you're going after Dracula, let's start over fresh. Let's wipe out those furfags and go after him together."

Anna looked back up at him, with an eyebrow raised over her head.

"What did you just say?"

"If you're looking for Dracula, count me in", Alucard told her with a grin. "If he survived me eating him, then I don't even know what's real anymore. At the very least, this way, we can make a game out of proving each other wrong!"

Anna stared him down, but she quickly lost Seras' attention when what Alucard had implied began to settle in.

Alucard had just offered to leave the services of the Helsing Organization to hunt down a man who was probably already dead with a woman he had only met a few times.

That implication alone told her, for starters, that the entire situation, as she had feared, was far bigger than what she was qualified for. Even more, whatever was going on here extended far past Alucard's ties to the Helsing family line, if he felt so compelled to help her that he would shirk his blood-oath to do so. For another, it told her that far more than what she had initially suspected was going on in her Master's head. Alucard wasn't just in love with this woman; it was like he thought they were soul mates.

Another thing that occurred to her, quite suddenly, was that she suddenly had a choice; either she could go with her Master, or she could remain loyal to the Helsing Organization.

The choice, she immediately recognized, was obvious. She would remain loyal to Sir Integra, who treated her like she was at least an existing object. She would allow Integra to protect her, and teach her how to become stronger, and maybe she would have a somewhat normal life. And if that failed... well, she didn't know what she would do. But she certainly didn't want to go with her Master.

A pang of guilt shot through her at that thought. Master may be difficult to work with, and appear to be unfeeling and unloving, but he was certainly beginning to prove her wrong with this display. he was willing to throw everything away for some woman he seemed to barely know.

_So that he can use her,_ a nagging thought told her. _And Sir Integra will use you, too. You're going to be a puppet until the day you die for real. All because of Alucard._

Suddenly, she didn't feel so bad about leaving Master to his devices. So what if he saved her life? To what end? If he was inclined to let her know why she was like this, maybe she would be inclined to give a damn about him and his schemes.

Speaking of schemes, what was this about him killing Dracula? Everyone knew that Abraham Van Helsing had annihilated that monster. Anna was a fool to believe Alucard, and Alucard was a fool to lie to her.

Anna sighed, lowering her head. The sound dragged Seras from her thoughts, and drew her attention back to the beautiful woman. To her incredible surprise, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Anna sniffed heavily, and glanced back up at Alucard.

"You're right", Anna told him. "I've disgraced my entire family by stooping this low. And I've done even less to honor my brother."

For a moment, everyone was silent. The group of six maintained their gazes on the woman, waiting for her to say more.

"First thing's first, then", Alucard told her gently. "We've gotta kill those werewolves."

Anna nodded, but didn't say any more. For a long, precarious moment, everyone was still, save for the tears that pooled on Anna's chin and dropped off of her onto the trash-covered ground.

Alucard stepped forward, and reached out a hand, reaching around her back, and grabbing the cuffs on her hands. He crushed the mechanisms until they shattered, freeing Anna's hands. She began rubbing her wrists intently.

"Then let's go", Alucard told her.

"Shall I lead the way", she asked, looking out past the group of five that still blocked the alleyway before her.

"Not yet", Alucard told her with a grin. "First, we need some better equipment. But before we do that", he said, walking over to Pip, and handing him his phone. "Pip, I want you to select a song from this list that is both wholesome and is cool to walk away in slow motion to."

Pip scrolled through the list, frowning.

"I don't know any of these songs", Pip admitted.

"Pip", Alucard told him, "the song that you select will determine whether or not you survive the trip."

Pip, deciding that there was no point in delaying the inevitable, hit "random".

The song that came on was Bigdicknine11's Skip Class Eat Ass.

"You're dead", Alucard told him.

Pip shrugged, and they all began walking out of the alleyway in slow motion.

...

While his earlier musings of the Helsing Organization not having maintained a safehouse in America in quite some time rang true, there was one thing that any good Helsing loved more than being safe; the tools necessary to get themselves into trouble.

He grinned at the thought, as he opened the door to the small, run-down suit shop. The place smelt musty, like someone had left mothballs in the corners and then forgotten about them. The suits on the racks looked like dust had begun to accumulate on them, and on a few in particular, the colors had faded almost entirely. There was one suit, however, contained behind a large, glass case, that was covered by a red duster, and topped with a red wool hat. A sign had been draped over the glass case which read, "reserved".

Alucard turned to his left, and witnessed a sight that had greeted him for the past ten years; Rachael, or Roach, as she sometimes called herself, manned the counter. She sat, chain-smoking behind the desk, flicking ash at a fly that had buzzed down onto the counter.

When she saw him, her eyes lit up.

"Oh, hey, sweetie", she said, in her thick Bronx accent. "You're early! You bring that sweet girl with you?"

"Not today, Roach", he told her, tipping the hat that was no longer on his head towards her.

She rolled her eyes, and gestured towards the glass case.

"Another one came in for you yesterday. You've got great timing, by the way."

"As always", he commented.

He eyed the case, but didn't advance on it. Around this time, Roach began to notice all of the people around Alucard.

She began reaching under the counter, casually commenting, "Made yourself some new friends, finally?"

"Yeah", Alucard told her, gesturing to the Mercs and Seras. "They're all accounted for." He gestured towards Anna, saying, "She's a guest."

"That so", she commented, continuing to reach under the counter. "What's your name, dolly?"

"Sound off", Alucard said in a low voice. "She's got a machine gun under that counter."

"Anna Valarious", she called out. "Former Queen of Romania."

She immediately ceased her reaching, screaming, "FUCK", and jumping straight up.

The chain-smoking Bronx woman stared at the deposed Queen, her jaw so agape Alucard began to fear she had broken it.

"From the way Alley talked about her, I thought she'd be gorgeous", she croaked out, "but... Alucard, you may have finally found someone out of your league!"

Anna leaned in to Alucard, the action sending butterflies careening throughout his stomach, and whispered, "Who's Alley?"

"I'll tell you some other time", he affirmed.

"On the subject of unknown persons", Anna said, sparing a glance at Seras, who immediately blushed and looked away. "That one has been staring at me for quite some time. It is rather disconcerting."

"I'm sure she's just making sure you're not packin' heat", Alucard told her dismissively.

"I'm not sure what that means", Anna told him cautiously.

"She's just making sure you're not a threat", Alucard said, extending a hand to her left hip, which sported a leather-covered scabbard. "Especially since you strapped that sword back on."

"It's not that", she said, turning back to Alucard. "She has been... how would you say... 'checking me out'. As in, she has been observing my body like a ravenous predator."

"Maybe she's hungry", Alucard offered with a chuckle.

Alucard had noticed it, but he didn't quite know how to handle it. Seras hadn't ever seemed to be attracted to anyone beforehand. For a while, he had suspected she might have been asexual all together.

The term "asexual" carried different connotations for Alucard than what it did for most people. Alucard had experienced a terrible sexual limbo for the majority of his life and death after his ten-year incarceration in Turkey, in which he found that he was undeniably straight, but couldn't bring himself to engage in sexual relations with anyone or anything, including either of his two wives or his own hand. In fact, the only thing that had managed to break this cycle was a deep opium high that had occurred in 1927 when Zhang Zongchang had dared him to smoke all of the opium in a single den. Frankly, the fact that he could have sex at all was thanks only to Zongchang and his wacky crew.

This was what "asexual" meant for Alucard... that was what the family physician had diagnosed it as... and even though he had personally suffered through it, he had no idea how to help anyone else who suffered it. There was the idea of getting that person... or, in this case, vampire... incredibly high, but the high had only been step one for Alucard. The next part had been up to him.

Now that Seras was mirrin' Anna, Alucard was truly confused. Had she just been gay for strong women this whole time? That seemed rather unlikely, considering the absolute SIZE of Integra. Hell, Alucard had practically raised Integra, saw her as a badass daughter, and even he was attracted to her sexually, in a weird father-daughter way. There was no way that Seras had overlooked her in the personality department, yet she never spared her a second glance. Clearly, something larger was at play here. Eventually, he would follow up on it. Right now, however...

"Oh, that reminds me, for whatever reason", Alucard said loudly, seemingly to himself. He turned towards the chain-smoking wonder behind the counter, and said, "I'd like to try on my new suit, please."

Seras looked confused, and the Mercs all shared a knowing look which seemed like barely contained joy. Anna raised an eyebrow.

Roach disappeared behind the counter for a moment, and then reemerged, holding a key in her hand, putting it down on the counter.

"Room 2, sweetie", Roach reminded him.

"Thanks, babe", he told her, swiping the key from the counter.

"And don't fuckin' eat each other in there, ya hear me?! Carpet steamers are fuckin' expensive!"

Alucard flipped her the bird, and motioned for the group to follow him.

He led the group to a set of three dressing rooms that had locks on their exteriors. The one in the middle, labelled "#2", had a sign directly underneath that, which had been slanted at an angle, reading, "Out of Order". He inserted the key into the lock, and twisted.

"Um, Master", Seras hesitantly said, "it says 'out of order'."

Everyone in the group turned to look at Seras. The Mercs looked at her with exasperation. Anna looked at her with annoyance. Six-gun, in particular, looked at her much like how the picture of Mike Wasowski with Sully's face photoshopped over it looks at you in your darkest nightmares.

"Police Girl", Alucard said through a hefty sigh, "stop embarrassing yourself in front of your crush."

Seras blinked for a moment, then went red as a tomato, and then her mouth went agape, and then began backing away.

"I-I", Seras began. "WHAT?!"

"Whatever, man", Six-gun said, annoyance clear in his voice. "Just open up the armory already!"

Alucard pushed the door open, and they were greeted by a hallway with another door at the end. It looked like it had been painted to look like plywood, but it was most definitely made of steel, probably lined with silver. when they made their way down the hall and Alucard placed his hands on it, Seras took note of the fact that his flesh seemed to sizzle. Alucard's only response was a grunt.

"_Password, please_", a mechanical voice called.

"Do you know Candice", Alucard replied.

"_Candice who_", the mechanical voice questioned.

"Candice dick fit in yo mouf, boi", Alucard asked the machine.

The machine beeped in response, and the door parted with a snap of released pressure and a hiss.

The sight that was revealed to them was enough to bring a tear to Six-gun's eye, a content smile and nod to Pest and Cali Swag, an agape mouth to Pip, the same for Seras, and a look that raised both of Anna Valarious' eyebrows.

Behind this door was a twenty by forty foot room which housed every conceivable type of weapon; long swords, short swords, pikes, spears, cleavers, morning stars, every melee weapon imaginable, mingling with small single-shot pistols that looked like they had cost five dollars total to make, all the way up to chain-guns and rocket launchers. Bombs, cartridges, throwing knives, bayonets, bandoliers, body armor, all of it was now at their disposal.

As Alucard entered the room he had most frequently visited whilst in America, he immediately strode over to a small section of handguns. A few of them were custom-made, used throughout various times in his life and death; an ornate, muzzle-loading percussion cap pistol that he had used to execute Carmilla in front of her followers, thereby making the envelopment of his armies into his own complete, a pair of Webley revolvers, wrecked beyond repair at the climactic Retreat of Van, and a pair of highly stylized and customized M1911's that he had used for the duration of WWI, and for the majority of WWII, an Obrez Mosin that was short enough to hide at the right angle, but was pimped out enough to be memorable, even coming with a foregrip for stabilization, and underneath them, a pair of .30 carbine pistols, crudely made with patchwork material, but effective enough to serve their purpose. Alucard remembered how the right pistol had a tighter spring than the left one, and was therefore harder to rack... not that that had been particularly problematic for him.

Underneath that was a small desk, upon which sat several magazines, which, to his glee, were fitted for his .454's, and had been refilled. He swiped them off of the desk and pocketed them, then turned to the rest of the group. His gaze fell on Anna Valarious first.

"What exactly are we walking into, Anna?"

"An enclosed, well-maintained, and well-guarded warehouse", Anna told him.

"What is it with people and warehouses these days?"

"Sorry?"

"... Never mind. Please, continue."

Anna hesitated for a moment before continuing.

"A little more than half a dozen Marching werewolves, all of whom have had rather Spartan training."

_Marching_. At first, that term hadn't even registered in his mind, it had been so long since he had heard it. After a moment of digging... and some unpleasant memories... he recognized them as the modern-day Grunt werewolves.

There were four major class of werewolves in the modern day. The most common were Dwarf werewolves, sometimes called by less seasoned hunters "traditional" werewolves, despite them being one of the newest additions to the werewolf fold, as a result of decreasing in quality DNA. They were just that; men that turned into wolves. Although group tactics had mostly died out in overall vampire culture, Dwarf werewolves were almost always observed in packs. They ranged from completely animalistic to possessing minor human traits, and their size and how much control they had over their changing varied from werewolf to werewolf.

Grunt werewolves were the more anthromorphic kind, which seemed to be the new fascination of pop culture, though he personally didn't find anything fascinating about them at all, minus their history. To him, they were truly the "traditional" werewolf, their history spanning back to before the city of Atlantis was destroyed by God, as evidence of a race of "Dog-headed men who made war abundantly", noted by several great Greek historians. Their turning was strictly uniform, and entirely controlled by whoever carried the curse, with size and power varying only slightly from werewolf to werewolf. Alucard referred to these in particular as "furfags", especially after fursuit-wearing became a thing.

Juggernaut werewolves were the only significant off-shoot from Grunts, being basically twice to three times their size, and far more powerful, but they paled in comparison to the Uberwolf, which was what the Captain... was his name Logan? … had been. They fought and coexisted in a spatial plane, allowing them to extend themselves through Astral Projection. They were insufferably hard to fight, and were the only kind of werewolf that had to be killed with silver, as it was a purifying agent that had sub-spatial properties. Technically, gold affected them, too, but that only paralyzed them... and if you used too much, it made them levitate.

Even though it wasn't necessary for a kill, silver worked exceptionally well at eliminating most werewolves, as it was the only metal that could simultaneously rip apart and "purify" the body. Dismemberment and blood loss worked too, but that took time. Time which the crew didn't have.

Speaking of which...

Alucard reached up to the wall, and pulled a gun belt with two holsters off of it. Each holster contained a Dragoon revolver, and the loops on the belt contained silver .357 magnum rounds. He extended it towards Anna.

"It's gonna get hairy in there", Alucard told her, his grin widening at the pun. "You're going to need these."

Anna wrinkled her nose and waved a hand dismissively, saying, "My sword will be sufficient."

"We need an opening volley", Alucard explained, his grin lessening. "Just take them and dump them all when I shout."

Anna shook her head, saying, "No thank you."

Alucard narrowed his eyes. He really, _really_ didn't want to jump to conclusions, but his gut was rarely wrong...

Alucard continued to stare, until Anna gave a big sigh.

"If it will make you feel content", she said, taking the gun belt from his hand, and looping it around her waist, being careful not to get her scabbard tangled in it.

She tightened it to fit her figure, and then placed her hands on the handles of the big irons, pushing the holsters into comfortable positions on her thighs. Alucard didn't want to give off a sigh of relief. It changed nothing. He had seen it in her eyes.

"Now, for the rest of you."

He motioned to Pest first, and reached over to the wall, pulling an interesting weapon off of it.

"All of these weapons are specifically designed for use with silver bullets", he added nonchalantly, "but this particular one is rather fancy."

Technically, any gun could run silver bullets. Sure, they were a bit messier than normal copper-coated lead, but at the end of the day, a bullet was a bullet was a bullet. He recalled how when the Nazi's had begun to get desperate towards the end of WWII, instead of wasting valuable lead on bullets, they carved conical pieces of wood and fashioned them into their cartridges, literally using wooden bullets in modern warfare.

What made these particular guns special was all in how they were designed. He was no gunsmith, so he could only smile and nod when Walter gleefully explained to him that the guns he designed were specifically modified to exact maximum effectiveness from silver bullets, and the details in how it was done had all gone completely over his head.

He still had the mental capacity, however, to differentiate between certain types of weapons and how they should be used.

"This is an eight-shot revolver", he told Pest. "What's cool about this is that if you pull this pin right here, it'll fire a 20 gauge cartridge loaded with silver buck. You pop it open from the back to reload it. However, we both know you won't have enough time to do that, so, as backup, you'll be using..."

He returned to the wall, and yanked off an MP5A2.

"Or, really, this'll be your primary."

He handed him both the MP5, and a small chest rig that was stacked with thirty-round MP5 mags. All of them were loaded with silver bullets. The man expertly attached the rig to his present armor.

"Now, onto you", he said to Cali Swag.

He pulled another interesting weapon off of the wall.

"Now, I know they have some trashy gun restrictions in California", he told the man with a smirk. The other Mercs snickered. "Fortunately, I have a solution; something that'll kill good, but is still Compliant!"

He passed the weapon to Cali Swag, who examined it thoroughly.

"It's a pneumatic crossbow", Alucard explained. "You won't have to pump it up, it's a self-contained cycle-pump. I don't know how it works, but it fills itself up, and loads another arrow at the same time, all faster than the blink of an eye. It's quiet, too."

He pointed to the cylindrical object attached to the underside of the bow.

"The only thing you'll need to fill is the magazine, and that'll be easy enough, 'cause you can just pop that off and replace it. Each comes with twelve shots, and if you get ahold of more bolts, you can slide them back into the cylinder."

Alucard passed him a bandolier with hoops that held more of the cylinders. Cali Swag gladly accepted them. He turned back to the wall, and pulled a few Glock mags out of a stationary rack, passing them to him. They were loaded with silver bullets, as well.

Alucard turned to Six-gun, saying, "Oh, I know you'll love this one!"

He turned back to the wall, and pulled what at first glance appeared to be a customized M104 shotgun off of the wall, albeit possessing a heat shield that was silver-plated. On second glance, the underside contained a flower-shaped magazine, with four cylinders set on a rotating scroll. At the end of the barrel sat two bayonet lugs, one on either side, a bit canted.

"If you know it, you know it", Alucard said with a grin. "This baby comes with two silver bayonets, four separate magazines carrying seven rounds each, and the unique ability to be reloaded like a regular shotgun!"

Alucard attached the bayonets to the end, and Six-gun noted that they resembled great tusks coming off the maw of some ancient, predatory animal. It took every fiber of his being not to jump for joy as a wide and malicious grin spread across his face. He snatched it up quickly, and began stroking it almost reverently.

Alucard pointed at Pip, saying, "I've got something for you, too."

He went back to the wall, and Pip recognized the gun he pulled off instantly; a DAS-58, a highly upgraded version of the tried, true, and loved FN FAL. Pip had carried one throughout his "travels" in the middle east, and he never had any complaints about it.

"This", Alucard said, holding it out like he was passing him freshly folded laundry, "is just a fucking gun."

"I'll take it", Pip affirmed.

"And for you, my Apprentice", Alucard said, walking over to the opposite wall, closer to where he had gotten the magazines to his gun from, and pulled a long rifle off of the wall.

He walked back over to her, and held the rifle out for her.

"This is a very special object to me. This was used by Abraham Van Helsing's son, Gabriel Gideon Helsing, during the Great War. This is a completely regular Gewehr 98, except it's stamped with the original Helsing Arms Manufacturing crest on the receiver. This beautiful object passed through the hands of a good friend of mine. Now I want you to have it."

Seras stared at the rifle. There were pits in the wood, even though it looked like it had been meticulously cared for, which made sense for a weapon undoubtedly made almost a hundred years ago. She took note of the supposed crest; a highly stylized Medieval European dragon, holding what appeared to be a flaming sword in its mouth.

She looked back up at Alucard. His gaze seemed... strangely soft and inviting. A bite of insanity by knowledge hid within them... but they still made her want to reach out and take his hand.

"Why me", she suddenly asked.

The entire room suddenly seemed to grow uncomfortable. The Mercs immediately turned to their weapons, disassembling them so that they could better understand them, and Anna looked on with a queer expression on her face. Alucard shook his head.

"I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to discuss this later", he told her. "For now, all you need to know is that I chose you for a reason."

Those words seemed to snap her out of a daze she didn't even know she was in. The world seemed to snap into focus, and her best wishes had been realized. Suddenly, the idea of taking the rifle in his hand seemed trivial in comparison. She reached out, and took it from his hands, examining every smooth or pitted contour with a reverence that brought a smile to Alucard's face.

Alucard reached back over to the wall, and pulled a long khaki bandolier off of it.

"What good is a gun without bullets", Alucard told her. "Pull this across your chest."

She did so, finding that each of the seven leather pouches contained two clips with five silver bullets attached to each of them. She looked back up at her Master, nodding.

"Let's blow this popsicle stand", Alucard told the crew. "Where to, Anna?"

"There's an abandoned train that will take us straight there", she told them. "But it is abandoned for a reason. The train is insufferably slow. It will take at least two days to get there if it has been charged, and God help us if it hasn't."

"Couldn't we walk there?"

"The train is the only safe way in or out."

At this, Pip raised his eyebrow. An enclosed space on a set track was not Alucard's idea of "safe" either. But they had no other way, and those werewolves had to die.

"We'll have to take the chance. Pip, another song, please."

Once again, Pip hit random.

_"Gucci flip-flop, suck a nigga dick through a sock-" _

_"SKIP"_, Alucard shouted.

The next song was 645AR's Bible and a K.

"I hate you."

"I wear that fact as a badge of honor", Pip told him nonchalantly.

Once again, they slow-motion walked away to the very not-fitting song. Once again, that sinking feeling returned to Alucard's stomach. Everything was about to come to a climax, and, Alucard was beginning to believe, probably not for the better.

...

Not ten minutes after Alucard and his absolute 10/10 goddess walked out, the bell over the door rang again, and Roach looked up over her blue cloud of smoke to witness a sight that absolutely puzzled her. Before her stood a five-foot nothing... thing, with hair so blond it must have come from a newborn, a distinctly feminine face with intense lavender eyes, which had a gleam of confidence about them, wearing a brown shirt that looked hilariously uniform, even having some badges on it, with a pair of black shorts and knee-high black stockings to cover its legs, and some rather nice dress shoes on its feet.

If it needed a new suit, it had come to the absolute wrong place to get it-

A double take revealed large cat ears growing out to the top of the thing's head.

She decided right then and there that this thing had come to the wrong neighborhood.

"We're closed, fuck off", she told the thing.

"Oh, hello", the thing told her. "I'd like to purchase a suit!"

"First of all", Roach began, "what part of, 'we're closed, fuck off' don't you understand? Second off, you'd probably have an easier time finding a dress that fits you, babe."

"Oh, I'm a boy, actually-"

"No you're fuckin' not."

"Oh, actually, I am-"

"I said no, you're fuckin' not."

"Look, we could argue about what's in my pants all day, but I-"

"If you're a boy", Roach said, waving a hand at her wrinkled face, "then I'm a boy, too. And I'm pretty sure I've got coochie."

"Look, can I just get a suit? From stall number 2?"

"Wrong password, motherfucker", Roach said, as she dipped behind the counter, and raised up the 5.56x45mm minigun, and depressed the trigger.

The creature, whatever it was, quickly dissipated into a red stain on the floor under a withering hail of bullets. Roach let go of the trigger for a moment, and watched the corpse. Its finger twitched, probably just a reaction to the nervous system suddenly being deprived of communication to the brain, but what was the point in taking chances? Roach let loose another burst, turning the puddle of gore and blood into a much more spread out puddle of gore and blood.

Satisfied with the results, she put the minigun down on the counter, and returned to the telephone on the wall, picking it up, and pressing 1 to hotline dial directly into Helsing headquarters. After only two rings, she got someone.

"Helsing Organization, line secure, go ahead."

"I need a cleanup crew to Site Omega-12", she said in her throaty smoker's voice. "Just dealt with a little pe- WHA?!"

She had turned around to find that the bullet holes were still present, but that the body, and its contents, were not. She gingerly looked at the cigarette between her fingers, and shook her head.

"They tell me not to buy them from street vendors, and now look, someone's laced my shit."

"Say again?"

"Negative on the cleanup", she said. "But... I am going to need some renovations. And maybe a trip to the funny farm!"


	16. Chapter 13: The Waiting Game

_I've been patient before. I've subjected myself to enormous amounts of pain, to cruel and unusual torment, and the most terrible of it all, waiting. Honestly, it never gets easier. Waiting to rematerialize so that I could kill the Sultan quietly? The pain of being decapitated and parceled was trivial compared to how long I waited. Weeding out and destroying the Valarious family line? The wounds I sustained were trivial compared to how long I waited. Getting the McRib from McDonalds? The heartburn I sustained was trivial compared to how long I waited. If you can't tell, I really hate waiting... which is why a hundred fifty years is a hundred fifty too many. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 13: The Waiting Game

Anna had been completely correct; the train was insufferably slow. It hadn't been a long trip from the dressing store to the train, and after a moment of Anna pushing buttons on the main console, they began rolling to their destination. And frankly, it was rolling at a very, VERY, slow pace.

Forty-eight hours was a long time, and Alucard was beginning to realize just how long of a time it might be. Two whole days with nothing to do... and no one to do.

A grin spread across his face at the thought of what he could do with Anna for forty-eight hours. Just as quickly, the grin faded. No two days of fornication could replace what he _really _wanted from Anna; her hand in marriage. To be with her, in holy matrimony... or, more accurately, unholy matrimony... until the end of time, united forever by a binding covenant. For he to be hers, and her to be his, forever.

Unfortunately, that was not going to happen; not here, on this train ride.

All that was going to come of this ride, he realized, was forty-eight hours of torture. Torture from the fact that he was in such a close proximity to the woman he loved, torture because he would never have her, and torture because at any moment, the truth might be unwittingly revealed to her.

Some part of him _had_to have known that telling Seras the truth... well, most of it... had been a bad idea. Seras was curious by nature, and from the way she was mirrin' Anna, it wouldn't be long before they started talking... and when they did, discrepancies were bound to come to light.

It didn't matter how far away he kept the two of them, either, because Seras had a tendency to make the worst possible comments at the worst possible times... or, at least, it had become a recent development for such to be the case. She had already made a rather risqué remark about him being "in love", and it wasn't stupid to think she might do it again. For some reason, she seemed to enjoy the idea of him loving Anna, and that enjoyment would only spur her on.

He resolved to keep a close eye on the two of them. Hopefully, if things got too heavy, he could intervene in time to keep his web of lies tightly wound... and keep Anna safe.

Another part of him began whispering that there was no point in keeping the lie alive; the longer he was around Anna, the greater the chance that the web would be unwound. It was going to end up being more trouble than it was worth.

That may have been true, but he wasn't known for going down easy.

'Or, hear me out', Jackal said from within his coat, 'we could waste everyone on this train _before_all of that even starts.'

"Shut up, inanimate object."

With a start, Alucard realized he had said that out loud. With another start, he realized everyone had heard him... and were all currently staring at him. Thinking quickly, Alucard whipped up a grin.

"Just practicing for the next time Pip asks me a question."

"Baise merde", the Frenchman mumbled.

_"How much has madness consumed you, wicked creature__",_ Anna asked in Romanian.

_"Unfortunately, not enough",_ Alucard responded in the same dialect. _"__I envy the mad; for them, life is simple." _

"You speak my language well", Anna told him, almost as if she wasn't surprised at all. "I even hear a hint of Roma on your tongue. we met on the fields of France, but I feel like I've known you since before then."

"Well, of course you should", Seras butted in from across the car, "after all-"

"Our battles stretch farther than the Great War", Alucard said with the hint of a grin on his face. "In fact, I've been your opposing force since day one."

"He led the army that fought yours", Seras explained.

Externally, Alucard facepalmed. Internally, Alucard cringed. This was exactly what he had been hoping to prevent. Now it was out.

Anna, however, did not keep her reaction internal. Loud, rancorous laughter, which sounded out through the train car like church bells on satin walls, rocked the eardrums of Alucard as she threw her head back. Eventually, she worked herself to doubled over, clutching her gut, roaring with laughter.

When she had finally calmed down enough to get a word in, she turned a finger towards Alucard, and declared, "You mean to tell me, that it is your belief, that this sniveling, pathetic excuse for a vampire actually led the army that fought my family for ten generations?!"

"But-", Seras began.

This time, Alucard cut her off.

"I said I _had _an army", he clarified, "not that I led it."

"But I-"

Anna wheeled on him, the laughter dying instantly.

"You say that as if Dracula's army was family to you."

A probe, and a good one at that.

"They were family to me", Alucard admitted. "For a long time, they were the only family I had."

"Yet now, you claim to hunt them", Anna declared. "Why, I wonder, would you turn on them so easily?"

"Actually", Alucard admitted, "it's kind of the other way around. _They _betrayed _me_, and if there's anything I hate in this life more than Turks or my father, it's being betrayed."

"So now you reveal your true hand", Anna said, pointing at him again. "You fight not for glory, or retribution, or even forgiveness, but out of spite!"

"Then are we so different", Alucard asked coyly, with a raise of his eyebrow.

Anna didn't respond to that. She let her hand fall to her side. She stared evenly at him, leveling threats and accusations with her eyes. Then she turned, found herself a half-decent seat, and curled up onto it.

"It will be a long journey", Anna declared, "and a fierce battle. I suggest we all get some rest while we can."

With that, Anna laid her head on the seat rest and closed her eyes. Two sets of eyes turned towards him; one bewildered pair of innocent blue eyes, and one singular inquisitive brown eye. Alucard nodded, and Pip returned the nod, putting his stupid outback hat down over his face. The rest of the Mercs seemed to take the hint, and they curled up to get some rest. Seras, still a bit bewildered, curled up as well, her eyes at first on Pip, and then shifting over towards Anna.

Alucard allowed his mind to wonder. Currently, all of his thoughts were on everything that stank, which meant his thoughts were on everything. They were most definitely walking into a trap, and that stank. His plan to turn the tide stank. Pip stank, and furthermore, so did Anna. He wasn't quite ready to mention to her that she reeked of werewolf just yet, but if he had to smell it for much longer, he just might start acting up.

Speaking of acting up, his eyes landed on Seras, and noticed that she was trying to sneak a hand down her pants. Under normal circumstances, Alucard couldn't have given less of a shit. Frankly, he'd probably have been doing the exact same thing, more than likely in full view of everyone, without a care in the world.

However, with Anna Valarious in their presence, even thinking about the act seemed... dirty. That was a strange word in a strange context for him, but the very presence of Anna Valarious just seemed to make him... want to be better. And for some fucked up reason, that meant doing the right thing.

"Police Girl", he said in his usual tone.

The young woman nearly flew out of her seat, and quickly turned her head to look at her master, her face burning hot with a blush. Alucard kept a neutral expression, slowly shaking his head.

"When Anna wakes up", he continued in the same tone, "I'll teach you how to properly swordfight. So that, you know, you don't get cleaved."

Seras swallowed a big knot in her throat, and nodded furiously, quickly sinking back down into her chair.

Now Alucard was picking up bits of conversation from the Mercs.

"Sorry, boss, but it looks like your crush over there's a girl-getter!"

"First of all", Pip replied in an irritated tone, "she's not my 'crush'. Second of all, even if she was, it's none of your, mine, or our business. And third of all, don't be so pessimistic! She could be bisexual, and that would just make her twice as fun!"

"Yeah, you French know all about bi, don't y'all? How's your boyfriend doin' back home, boss?"

"Oh, fuck right off."

That whole conversation pissed Alucard off, but instead of bitching about it, he dipped his head down and went to sleep.

The first part of his sleep was horrible. Dreams of torture, endless torture, the tears streaming down his face only goading his tormentors, people he had trusted and loved turning their backs on him. Family turning their backs on him. Humanity turning their backs on him. God turning His back on him.

He was alone, endlessly alone. He had finally made himself strong enough that he no longer needed to rely on anyone else. Yet, even without the betrayers, life was...

Hopeless. Empty. Unnecessary.

Lonely.

But his dreams changed; suddenly, he was looking up at a brilliant night sky, filled with billions of stars, and a big, bright, full moon. As his gaze made its way downward, he realized that he stood in an unfinished gazebo. He was dressed in his red duster, his hat firmly atop his head, but his glasses were nowhere to be seen.

Turning his head to the right, he glimpsed Alexander Anderson, clothed in much more traditional Catholic attire, with a white scarf draped across his shoulders, and a bible in his hands. Anderson winked at him, and he instinctively winked back.

Glancing to his left, he saw a long procession of corpses, although, if an outsider had seen what he was seeing, he would not have said so; the Helsing family line looked really good for being almost all dead for quite some time. They were seated to the left of a large red silk cloth which served as a divider between rows on rows of folding chairs.

The first face he saw was Abraham Van Helsing himself. The old coot had a big smile on his face, and he looked almost younger than when Alucard had first met him. To his left sat his only son, Gabriel, dressed from head to toe in the shine-polished silver-lined plate armor that he had used throughout World War I. He shared his father's wide smile.

Gabriel's two boys stood to the left of him. Arthur wore a look of soft, warm, contented acceptance, whereas Richard looked like he might scoff out loud at any second. Arthur's hand was situated upon the shoulder of his daughter, who sat puffing on a big Churchill cigar, her lips curled up in a satisfied, knowing smirk. Her suit was all white, even down to the shoes she wore.

The folding chairs to the right of the silk procession sat nothing but corpses; the whole Valarious family line, going back ten generations, going all the way back to Khan Valarious, all of them decked out in their ornate ceremonial plate armor, laced with gold, silver, and jewels. Even Christopher, Anna's brother, was there, dressed in brown gambeson, his hair slicked back.

Funny, but at a second glance, he couldn't pick Anna's father Hogarth out of the crowd.

When he did finally find him, he almost fainted. He, too, was decked out in ceremonial armor, a black eyepatch covering one eye, and a silver rosary dangling from his neck. He had a wide grin on his face, and his daughter on his arm.

Anna Valarious looked more beautiful in that moment than in any other; she wore a white gown, simple, but elegant, with a few noticeable stitch jobs here and there. A hand-me-down, but it was perfect for her.

Alucard began to rationalize that this was another bad dream. He began looking around for the army that would sweep them all up, for the jokes and giggles in the peoples' eyes... and for that rotten bastard Gideon.

But he stood alone with Anderson on this gazebo, and Anna was walking slowly towards him, with her arm crooked inside her father's. The closer she got, the more nervous she looked. Hogarth led her straight up to the gazebo, and then released her, returning to his chair by his son, but not sitting.

She walked up the steps to where he stood, and turned to face him. She looked very nervous. He must have looked bewildered.

"Dearly beloved", Anderson called out, "we are gathered here today to mark the joining of two very fucked up individuals in... well, I'd call it Holy Matrimony, but I'd be lyin', so we're just gonna marry 'em instead!"

Laughter from the audience, on both sides. Once it died down, Anderson continued.

"Who gives this here woman to be married?"

"I do", Hogarth called out.

"Now why the hell would you do something like that?"

"Because she asked me to", Hogarth replied with a chuckle.

More laughter from the audience.

"Well, then", Anderson continued, "we'd best get on with it! First, I'd like ya both to say your vow-"

A beeping from Anderson's pocket cut him off. He reached in and pulled out a small pager, glancing at the number on it. His eyes went wide, and he shoved the pager back into his pocket.

"Ah, cripe", Anderson said, as he fumbled about in his pocket. "Work's callin', I ain't got time fer this shite."

He pointed to Anna, asking, "Do you?"

"Yes", Anna replied, relief washing over her face.

Anderson pointed to Alucard, asking, "Do you?"

"I do", Alucard replied, a wave of peace coursing through his whole body.

"Good, yer married, kiss 'er."

Alucard leaned in, and grabbed Anna by her waist, spinning her around until she was stretched out beneath him, in a position that looked all too familiar. She closed her eyes, a content smile crossing her face. He leaned in, pursing his lips, ready to touch hers-

A shrill scream woke him up. As he was shaking the sleep from himself, a blur of motion appeared in his vision. On instinct, he twitched for his gun, but after a blink, the blur resolved itself to be Anna Valarious. He relaxed his hand, and let a grin stretch across his face, preparing a snide comment.

"Back so soo-"

He was interrupted by a slap across the face. The hand hit him so hard, in fact, that spots danced in his vision, and his teeth cut into his lip, causing blood to dribble out of his mouth. For a moment, the cabin was still, with every occupant turning their eyes towards Alucard.

"Funny", Alucard said, as he snaked his tongue out of his mouth to lick up the red liquid, "but I don't recall offending your honor... recently."

Anna's sword flew out of its scabbard, and before the human eye could blink, it was touching Alucard's throat. Almost immediately, everyone else in the cabin pulled their arms and had them aimed at the fiery redhead. Seras looked horrified, especially when a dribble of blood began trickling down Alucard's neck, but the Mercs seemed surprisingly calm.

Anna finally broke the silence with an enraged grunt.

"If you _ever _meddle with my dreams again, monster, I will cut your belly, strangle you with your own entrails, and drag you from them behind this train!"

"I wasn't meddling with anyone's dreams", Alucard told her. "In fact, I was having a rather pleasant one myself."

"It _was _you", she yelled, the tip of the blade digging into his neck a little harder. "Stay out of my head!"

"Funny", Alucard told her, "but the one time I have a nice dream, I get woken up. You know how long it's been since I've actually got some decent rest?"

"You don't deserve any rest", Anna said, with conviction in her voice, and much more emotion, "cruel monster!"

"What was so bad about your dream that you think I'm messing with your head?"

"You... you", Anna stammered, the blade digging into his throat even moreso, drawing even more blood from him. Finally, with a thrust that almost opened a true hole in his neck, she screamed, "YOU MARRIED ME, YOU WICKED CREATURE!"

Now the whole cabin was deathly silent. The Mercs and Seras alike had their heads swiveling from Anna to Alucard. Anna had narrowed her eyes, wondering what would come next.

Slowly, very slowly, the corners of Alucard's mouth twitched up... not into a wicked grin, but into a genuine smile.

"Under the stars? In a gazebo? Were the Helsings there? And the Valarious's? Was the minister some crazy Scottish guy? What _exactly _was I wearing?"

The icy look from Anna stopped him suddenly. When those eyes pierced into his own, it was like she was searching his very soul... and finding every smudge ever put upon it.

"Never mind gutting you", Anna sneered. "My sword is already at your neck. I believe I'll just end this now."

"N-no you won't", Seras called out from the other side of the cabin.

Anna turned her head ever so slightly in her direction.

"And why, pray tell, not?"

"Because", Seras began, but stumbled on her words. "B-because-"

"Because,_ mon petite choufleur_", Pip spoke up, in a very nonchalant and upbeat tone, "we outnumber you six to one, and we've got some pretty heavy firepower. I knew you vampires can take a beating, but can you come back from complete pulverization?"

Anna kept her eyes locked with Alucard's. She kept up the icy glare, but it looked like she was thinking hard. More than likely, about who she would have to kill first, and how fast she would have to do it.

Slowly, very slowly, she began lowering her sword. When it was down at waist-level, the Mercs began lowering their own weapons.

"Perhaps you have a point", Anna told them, as she sheathed her sword. "Although, you voiced an incorrect presumption, undoubtedly spread by this foul creature", as she said this, she waved her hand carelessly in Alucard's direction. "I am not a filthy vampire. I am a Regenerator."

The Mercs began sharing confused glances at that. They hadn't been made aware of what a "Regenerator" was or how it might affect the situation they were in. But Seras, with a wild look of bewilderment, had her gaze fixed on Alucard.

Alucard locked eyes with her, as Anna made her way back to her seat, and very slowly shook his head.

"Say, Police Girl", Alucard spoke up, "now is as good a time as any to learn how to not die in a swordfight. Let's do that right now."

Alucard hastily stood up, and quickly withdrew his Magyar. He sliced a metal pole apart to about the same length, and walked over to where Seras still sat, with a blank look on her face. As he was approaching her, he attempted to establish a telepathic connection with her. He had to strain to make it work, but he finally got a solid connection to her mind by the time he had approached her.

He passed the sword to her unceremoniously. At first, she didn't even take it, simply staring at it like it was the first time she was seeing it. After a moment, she glanced up at him.

"Didn't Alexander Anderson say-"

_Shut up__,_ he said in her mind. _Don't talk, just listen. From now on, we are done talking out loud. Just think about what you want to say to me. _

_Why__,_ she thought. _Are you reading my mind? _

_What a dumb question__,_ he said, as he set the sword down on her lap.

She finally got the hint, and took the sword in her hand, standing up straight. Alucard turned around, heading for the back of the cabin, where there weren't any people that Seras could accidentally decapitate. She followed closely behind him.

When they were a good distance away from everyone, Alucard stopped, and turned to face Seras, taking up a guard position.

"Now", Alucard told her, "attack me."

Seras took a tentative swing, and he blocked it easily.

"See how I did that? Now you try."

As she held up a rather sloppy guard, he brought the pipe down on it, breaking her guard easily. She stumbled for a moment, nearly falling over. She caught herself a few feet away from him.

"That was sloppy", Alucard told her. "Attack me again, and watch how I defend."

_I didn't lie when I said I sired Anna__,_ Alucard projected into her mind, as she took another puny swing at him.

"Could've fooled me", she said out loud, in a rather sarcastic tone.

"That's because you watch too many movies", Alucard told her, as he deftly blocked the swing.

_What did I just say about talking out loud? Forget it, I see you trying to open your mouth. _

_But Master__,_ Seras thought, _Regeneration is a gift from God. Sir Integra told me that. _

"You're overextending yourself", he told her, "let the sword do the work. It's got a sharp edge for a reason."

_Integra doesn't know everything_, Alucard revealed,_and she's been led by certain people to believe things that aren't true. The truth is, Regenerators are made when tainted blood touches the heart of an unbitten human. Really, there's a lot more to it than that, but that's the jist._

He watched Seras try to register that for a moment, as she prepared to swing again. She stopped mid-strike as what he said finally sunk in.

_Oh my God__,_ she thought, as her mouth worked to make sound, _you forced her to drink your blood?! _

Alucard parried her strike to compensate for her lack of movement. The sword clattered to the ground, and she grabbed her hand, nursing it.

_You're right_, Alucard told her. _I had a choice; let her die and go to Hell, or force immortality upon her. _

Seras brought her hand up to her chest, and turned her head down towards it, examining it like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

_Do you think I made the wrong choice? _

She glared at him, and said out loud, "I think you're a horrible person."

"Hey, you're the one who missed."

"Why would you do that", she practically screamed.

_Not out loud. _

_Why the bloody hell not?! She already knows all of this! _

_That's the thing, though- _

Their information sharing was interrupted by a snort from Anna. Both he and Seras turned to look at her. She rolled her blue eyes in exasperation.

"Would you teach a newborn to walk by pushing the poor babe in front of a moving carriage?"

"That's how I was taught."

"Despicable", Anna said.

She stood up from her seat, and walked towards the two vampires, drawing her sword from its sheath. The Mercs began raising their weapons in response, but she paid them no mind. She walked right up to Seras, waving a hand at Alucard.

"Sit down", Anna told him, "I'll teach your apprentice properly."

Alucard did as he was told, quickly snaking around the two to take up a seat closer to the people. Seras was a bit surprised by the amount of sway she held over Alucard; when Mum told him to do something, it was usually met with a few "fuck-off's" before it was done. It was like he didn't even want to upset her.

Anna walked over to Seras, and made an upper guard position.

"I want you to do what you see here", Anna told her.

Seras did so, hoping that Anna wouldn't see how badly she was shaking.

Anna looked her up and down, and said, "Your arms are too flexible. Your guard should be firm enough to withstand a forceful blow."

As Seras tried to stiffen out her arms more, Anna looked down at her legs.

"Your stance is not very strong", she told the fledgling vampire. "A good stricture is to keep your legs shoulder-length apart, and to bend your knees."

Spreading out her legs and bending them at the knees, Seras wondered in a panic if Anna's sense of smell was strong. She didn't know if Anna would be able to smell her pheromones, since she was fairly certain that Alucard could do that. She wanted this weird phase to be over already.

"No, young one, not quite like that", Anna said with a shake of her head. "Spread them from front to end, so that your balance is evenly dispersed across all angles."

She widened her stance front to back, and Anna nodded.

"Very good. A tree with sturdy roots will weather any storm. Remember this when you move your legs."

She was going to remember Anna when she moved her legs tonight, that much she knew.

The thought startled her a bit. It sounded exactly like something Alucard would say. She felt a bit disgusted with herself.

She almost didn't see Anna's sword come down. By the time she did, she could only bring her own sword up so much. But even with that little bit, she felt leaps and bounds more steady blocking Anna's strike.

"Very good. Now, remember, block with the flat part of the blade. It will save the sharpness, and it will decrease the reverberation. And don't be so shy to move about; movement will save you as much as skill in a swordfight."

Alucard watched from afar. He wished Anna had been his Swordmaster, and not that filthy Turk who had beaten him until he either got it or the Turk got tired. Then again, if he had been trained by the soft, gentle types, he might have turned out soft and gentle.

And think how much history would have changed.

He was shaken from his thoughts by someone sliding into the seat next to him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, because his nostrils were immediately flooded by the smell of musty armpit mixed with croissant.

"I don't trust her", Pip said slowly and evenly, never taking his eyes off the feminine duo.

"Who", Alucard asked.

"The one who calls herself-"

"Cares."

"Look", Pip said with a sigh, "fuck with me for the rest of this trip, but hear me out just this once."

Alucard tilted his head slightly, trying not to crack a smile at the fact that this retard had just wasted his one favor making him listen to what he already knew he was going to say.

"Fine."

"I don't know what's going on between you two-"

"Good", Alucard interjected, "keep it that way."

"...and I don't care. But no one switches sides that fast unless they're into politics or deception, and she's not nearly fat enough to be in politics."

"If you're implying that she's leading us into a trap, I'm well aware. As an old friend of mine once said, 'It's hard to stare into a lion's mouth without seeing its teeth.'"

Pip, more surprised that Alucard had actual friends than by anything, was silent for a moment. He sat back in his chair, and closed his eye.

"Alright", Pip said, "you know it's a trap. What do you plan to do about it?"

"What I always do", Alucard told him, with an increasing grin. "Spring it."


	17. Chapter 14: Lies and Deceit

_Some fat cunt once told me that the truth would set me free. At the time, I was like, "Damnst bro, thou be'th correct". But now, lying has become second nature for me. If I'm ever able to dig myself out of the hole that I've dug, I promise myself that I'll be slightly better about lying. Slightly. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 14: Lies and Deceit

The swords clanged together with timed accuracy. They weren't hitting hard or fast enough to throw off sparks, but they could be heard reverberating throughout the cabin. They sliced the air elegantly, stopping abruptly on one another.

In only a few hours, Seras had gotten quite good with a sword. Alucard thought that if they could train constantly like this, she would easily be a master swordsman within a few years' time. Frankly, he was impressed, and a bit proud of her.

He was also learning quite a lot himself, about teaching in particular. Anna was a natural leader, and she seemed to be a natural teacher, too; her skills were translating to Seras faster than Alucard would have ever expected.

One thing he took note of her doing was building a personal connection to each lesson. Instead of simply explaining the movement she wanted Seras to perform, she would tell a story about why the move was important to her, saying, "This particular parry saved my life at the battle of Riverrun", in order to not only stress to Seras how important the maneuver was, but also to put personal stake in her learning it.

It was something he had failed to do himself, and he was starting to realize why he was so reluctant to train Seras in the first place. A lot of what he knew was charged with bad emotions, and sharing that with someone you were trying to make better than yourself was not an enviable task. Furthermore, he was a lazy fuck, which was something he had known beforehand, but it was good to admit your bad qualities.

Pip had left to go scheme with his men, so now Alucard sat alone, drinking in the sight before him; the beauty of Anna in action, passing on her knowledge to someone else that she couldn't have cared less about, but doing so with a total investment in the outcome. She was, truly, something else.

And he wished beyond wishing that he had never fallen in love with her.

...

Seras brought her sword up again, this time almost instinctively. She thought that she might actually be getting the hang of this swordfighting business, and it was starting to become interesting. It fascinated her every time the smaller Magyar withstood a heavy blow from Anna's massive sword; it fascinated her every time she was able to knock Anna, who seemed so sure on her feet, off balance with a simple maneuver. It was also quite fascinating how Alucard hadn't said a word the entire time.

Thinking about him for a brief moment, she almost didn't notice the slash coming for her chest. She brought her sword up just in time, but was knocked off her feet by the strike. She flailed her arms, trying to regain her balance, and landed flat on her bum. Embarrassed, she looked back up at Anna to gauge her reaction, preparing for an incoming strike.

Anna had lowered her sword, and was casting a curious gaze in Seras' direction.

"Your mind wonders, young one", Anna told her. "Am I beginning to bore you?"

"No", Seras said, a little too quickly, "no, I'm not bored, I, um... I just had a thought..."

"That is fine", Anna told her, sheathing her own sword. "It is time to take a break as it is. You need time to reflect on what you have learned."

"Oh... I-I'm sorry-"

"Don't be", Anna said with a smile, reaching out her hand. "You did fine work. I consider this lesson a success!"

Seras couldn't help but smile, too, as she reached out and grabbed Anna's hand. She almost wished that the two of them would take their gloves off for this, because, frankly, she wanted to feel Anna's skin on her own.

Shaking herself from such thoughts, she grabbed Anna's hand, allowing her to haul her to her feet.

"You are a terrific student", Anna told her, reaching around to clap her shoulder. "I would like to train you more often!"

For a moment, Seras contemplated if there might be a hidden message in that. Those thoughts ceased as Anna touched her shoulder.

As Anna's hand clapped her shoulder, Seras' eyes widened, and she saw a stone ceiling above her. It was withered and worn, but not by time, it seemed; rather, a large battle must have just taken place, because all of the scars looked new. She was lying on her back, as she could feel the cold stone running all the way up along her back, even through the gambeson that she wore.

Suddenly, fire lanced its way through her belly, and she tried to cry out, but it only made her hurt more. She lifted her head, and tried to look down her length. A dark spot had formed on her midsection, soaking even through the thick gambeson, and blood had begun to pool underneath her. She began to feel cold, but she found she couldn't shiver.

She tried to set her head back down gently, and her vision was greeted by the face of a man. It was the pale man that Seras had seen in her dream... or vision... and he had a rather... sad look on his face. He was dressed in ornate, interlocking armor, minus his forearms and hands, which were absolutely covered in heavy-looking plate armor, with the fingers of the gauntlets filing down to make pointed claws. She noticed that the gauntlets had red smeared on them, and offhandedly she wondered when that had happened, since he hadn't participated in any of the hard fighting.

That was another odd thought; this was HIS castle. It had been HIS army. And he had fought to protect neither. Almost as if he didn't care anymore.

The man moved his gauntlets, undoing the clasp on the left one, letting it clatter to the ground near Anna's head. His exposed hand was so pale, it should have belonged to a dead man. Odd, how the man before her who was supposed to be dead was still moving about as a living man would.

The man lifted a sword that looked almost exactly like Alucard's, and ran the blade across his palm. Red blood began dripping from the wound. The man closed his hand into a fist, and held it over Anna's head.

The first drop landed just below her nose. The second one struck off her chin. The third went right in the middle, hitting her lips. She tightened them down on reflex. She didn't want this man's taint.

Yet, even as she thought this, she could feel the darkness closing in around her. The hottest pits of Hell wouldn't be able to chase away the cold she felt... but maybe she would see her father again, at least. And her brother.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. It wasn't fair that she was destined for Hell now, no matter which path she chose. It wasn't fair that this path had been chosen for her, for her whole family.

And then another thought; maybe there was still a chance. A chance to destroy Dracula, and save the others. A chance at redemption.

But she had to open her mouth.

The taste was... coppery, like her own blood whenever she had bit her lip too hard. It was a strange thought, that his tainted blood could taste so much like her own. She wondered if she would have to feed on this wretched nectar anymore.

If she would hate herself for it.

After only three drops, the man lowered his hand. She looked back at his eyes, and was surprised to see that they weren't full of the hunger that most vampires would have held at such a sight. If anything, he seemed to hold a terrible sadness, perhaps even regret. Her throat felt so dry...

She swallowed, and the man closed his eyes. It didn't look quite like a sigh of relief, but he looked... slightly less sad. She could already feel the tainted blood worming its way through her. The black began to fade, and she began... returning to life.

It was not quite the feeling that she had expected. She had expected to feel like she was dying, and that her body was becoming something cold and different. Instead, she felt warmth flooding her, and she felt her pain dull.

The man bent down, and scooped her up, carrying her over to a bed in the room. A sick feeling began to course through her. She didn't want this. Not with him.

He set her gently down on the bed, straightened her out, turned, and promptly left her.

She was shocked for a moment. She expected him to come back any moment, devoid of his clothing, but he didn't. He was gone.

And she was left staring at the ceiling.

The ceiling faded, and she was staring at Anna again, her mouth agape, her eyes wide.

She was struck by an odd feeling that she had been Anna Valarious. That she had just seen a memory, not a vision. And immediately after that, she was struck by an odd realization; Alucard had lied to her. Unless he was the man in the black armor, he didn't sire Anna.

And Anna had thought of the man as Dracula.

Was Alucard leading some kind of double life? Was this a case of split personality disorder? Or was he just lying for some ulterior reason?

"Are you alright", Anna asked, concern in her voice.

Seras was shaken from her thoughts. If Alucard was lying to her, then he was lying to Anna. And if he was lying to either of them, she was gonna find out why. But now was not the time to bring it to light.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine", Seras told Anna with a smile.

"You were staring at me for some time."

"Oh, sorry, just... spaced out a bit, I suppose."

Anna looked at her for a moment longer, then turned and slid into a seat. She turned her eyes up to Seras inquisitively, but by then, Seras was already on the move.

She powered her way through the aisle, and wanted to take a spot up at the front, closer to where Pip and the other mercenaries were.

"Hey, Police Girl", Alucard said.

Seras stopped, and looked up at him. He grinned, and patted the seat next to him. With a sigh, she slid into it.

For a moment, neither party spoke. Seras didn't even want to look at Alucard, and Alucard continued to stare straight ahead.

"What was your family like", he finally asked.

Seras turned to look at him. He was still staring straight ahead, but the grin was gone. Seras looked straight ahead as well.

"They were great, we were all happy together."

Alucard nodded, seeming to accept this. For a moment, he was silent. Then, it seemed like floodgates opened up.

"I never knew my mother", he told her. "I'm pretty sure my father killed her. He was an abusive alcoholic with a short temper, and he was prone to violence. I wouldn't put it past him. He had a child with another woman, and that was my only family. I loved my baby brother."

Seras was stunned by what she had just heard. She had never thought of Alucard as having a tragic past. Then again, when someone is an asshole, it's easy to assume they don't have a good reason, because it makes them easier to hate.

"We did everything together", Alucard continued. "We learned how to fight, play, and make our way in the world all by ourselves."

Alucard's gaze grew cold.

"And then I lost him to my enemies."

_How terrible_, Seras thought._No wonder he gets so angry sometimes! _

Alucard turned to Seras, asking, "When did you lose your family?"

That caught Seras a bit off guard, and she could see that he could tell.

"Normally in a situation like yours, one of the first things someone in your position would ask is, 'can I see my family'. You haven't once asked that question, yet you say you had a good relationship with them. That leads me to believe they aren't around anymore."

Well, he had her there. Seras looked away, trying not to tear up, thinking about the day that her family was stolen from her. She was unsuccessful; a tear dripped down her nose and hit the floor.

"There was a robbery. They told me to hide in the closet. I saw everything."

For a moment, the duo was quiet yet again. Seras wrung her hands like she was strangling the robbers.

"So", Alucard asked, "did you become a police officer for justice, or revenge?"

Seras thought about that for a long moment. She continued wringing her hands.

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes", Alucard said definitively. "Yes there is."

Seras looked at him inquisitively. She began thinking of what Alucard would have said. But, as she looked into his eyes, she could see he wasn't seeking validation; he was seeking the truth.

"Revenge", she told him. "I wanted revenge."

"Did you get it?"

She looked back down at her hands.

"No."

"What_did_ you get?"

The tears began again.

"I wanted to quit after only a year. It was horrible. We weren't doing any good whatsoever. We were enforcing the politicians' wills. We were a mafia, not a peace force."

"Sounds like you didn't get your revenge."

"No", Seras admitted. "No I didn't."

"When you seek revenge", Alucard told her, "you lash out against the world. You try to find something to put your sword through. Usually, you end up finding that the whole world deserves your blade. That's the problem with revenge; it's a slippery slope."

"What about you", Seras suddenly asked.

"What about me?"

"You said you had an army", Seras recalled. "Why?"

Alucard leaned back in his seat.

"When I first started fighting, I did it for many reasons. The biggest of those were most definitely justice, and faith. When I lost my brother, they... did things, to him and me. I never wanted that to happen to anyone again. I had to lie, and I had to do some terrible things to make it happen, but when I declared war, it was the greatest feeling I had had in my life since I had my brother. I had an enemy, and I had a weapon, and the war was simple. But the biggest reason I went to war was because of my faith. When I left that dungeon, the only thing I had left was God. So, in God's name, I went to war to rid the world of wickedry. But I was betrayed. The people who promised me reinforcements left me out to die against an army of hundreds of thousands with only a thousand men. But for two years, I fought on, defeating my enemy in their own territory. And when they finally eradicated my small force, I came home a hero. But that didn't last. I was betrayed again, and again, and again."

He stopped talking. He stared off into that distance, not seeing the cabin he was in. Fire burned in his eyes.

"I got sick of being betrayed. So I built an army one more time, and out of revenge, I vowed to destroy all of humanity. Eventually, it became a war to turn the world into vampires, so that no man would have to disagree with any other. But there were... technical problems... that simply couldn't be ignored. And eventually, it became too much for me. Now... I fight because I vowed I would. I made a promise to a man that I could never turn my back on, and I intend to fulfill it."

He turned to look at her.

"You've got to find a reason to fight as well. If you don't have a reason, you're just flailing around. And if you're just flailing around, you will receive consequences that are too terrible to come back from. If you're wondering why I'm lying to Anna, it's because the truth is ten times worse than whatever lie I feed her. That's the worst consequence I have been given. And I regret it every single second I'm alive."

So he _was_ lying. But why? What had he done that was so horrible that he had to lie and say he was someone else?

What could have been worse than siring Anna?

...

Schrodinger could tell where the group's destination was, and he couldn't get close enough to film them, so there was really no reason to stay with them. Instead, he decided to investigate an interesting smell. It was a smell that had smelled both familiar and different. Yet, the more he smelled it, the more his nose wrinkled.

It was coming from a trash-covered alleyway, which led down a small set of stairs. A metal door with a speaker on the wall next to it were at the bottom. On impulse, he pushed the button on the speaker.

"Password please", a familiar, yet feminine accent said.

"Forget this", Schrodinger breathed. He turned around, ready to walk away.

"Felix? Is that you, sweetie?!"

Schrodinger stopped in his tracks. That was a name he hadn't heard in a long time. He turned slowly around.

"Y-yes."

"Felix, baby! The door is unlocked, please, come in!"

The door gave a click, and jarred open just a bit. Schrodinger swallowed, and reached out. He grabbed the edge of the door, and pulled it open.

Inside the hidden room, the walls were a very sanitary metallic color. Schrodinger hesitantly stepped inside. It looked like a waiting room that was devoid of any furniture. At the far end was another door; this one had a handle on it.

Part of him believed this felt far too familiar. Part of him wanted to turn around and run. Part of him wanted to burst into tears.

No. He hadn't been trained as an elite assassin to chicken out of a sterilized room. He was going to open that door. He was going to man up and face his fears.

He strode confidently across the room to the door, and put his hand on the handle. Now, he hesitated. Was this really worth it? Was it really worth facing his fears at a time like this? Thinking critically, this was probably a bad idea; this might very well take up too much time.

Before he could turn the handle, or turn away, the handle turned by itself. The door opened inward, and revealed a sight he was not ready to see.

Before him stood a woman, who had to be in her late forties, decked out in full Waffen SS uniform, complete with leather holster on her hip, which appeared to have been meticulously cared for. She had a wide smile across her white face, the beginning flecks of gray in her brown hair, and a twinkle in her brown eyes.

As soon as she set eyes on Schrodinger, she reached out her arms, and swept him up into a hug. His face was smothered by ample bosom, which frankly, he didn't mind too much. In Schrodinger's opinion, the only thing hotter than a young girl with large breasts was a MILF with large breasts.

When she finally released him, she immediately shouted, "Oh, sweet baby! We're so glad you found us!"

"Us?"

She pulled him through the door, and to his surprise, there were three more women behind the doorway that looked exactly like her. They all raced over to him, and smothered him in their ample bosoms as well. Schrodinger reflected on the fact that, while it was rather hard to breath, being smothered to death by boob wasn't a terrible way to end your life.

They all pulled away from him almost simultaneously, cooing, brushing his hair, and telling him sweet nothings. Apparently, the confusion was evident on his face, because they all took turns hugging him again. It didn't help jog his memory much, but he wasn't really complaining.

"Jojo", one of them suddenly said, "would you mind getting the milk out of the fridge and warming it up for our guest? He feels so tense!"

"Of course, Joanna", Jojo replied.

She quickly bounded away from the group. As Schrodinger watched her go, the cogs in his mind began turning.

"Jojo", he thought out loud, "and Joanna?"

"Yes", the one who had opened the door for him said gleefully, clapping her hands together. "And she's Josephina, and I'm Jo!"

Jo, Jojo, Joanna, and Josephina. They all had brown hair and brown eyes. And they all seemed to know him.

"Do I know you all from somewhere?"

This produced giggling from the group of women.

"Not directly, no", Jo told him.

Before he could ask more questions, Jojo returned with a glass of milk.

"I warmed it up in the microwave for you! I hope I didn't get it too hot!"

She gently pushed the cup into his hand, and he could feel the warmth radiating from the calcium-enriched liquid. He took a cautious sip and found that it was just hot enough to warm his insides without burning his tongue. He greedily drank the cup dry.

The group of women cooed once more, embracing him and tousling his hair. It felt rather nice, Schrodinger thought. He hadn't been treated like this since his mother-

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he cleared his throat as loudly as possible. It was time for some answers. The women all took a step back from him, staring curiously at him.

"So, where would I know all of you from? You seem familiar."

The women all glanced at each other, sharing expressions of what appeared to be pity. They returned their gazes upon him, silent.

And suddenly, something clicked in Schrodinger's mind.

"Your last names wouldn't happen to be Mengele, would they?"

Getting the name out of his mouth alone was worse than running a hundred miles without water. He had hoped that he would never have to say that name again. But it was the only name that made sense.

Jo was the first to look away. She gave a hefty sigh.

"I suppose there's no point in hiding it", she told him sadly. "Yes, we're all clones of Josef Mengele."

Schrodinger's eye twitched. Visions of his own blood leaking out of his body flashed through his mind. With them came the sensations of having his skin cut open.

He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. There was no need to reflect on that; after all, he had submitted to those augmentations willingly. He believed in what the Reich stood for.

"Felix", Jo said, gently caressing his face with her hands, and kneeling so that she could be eye-level with him, "I know that Josef hurt you. He was a bad man, and what he did to you was bad. He was evil born from an evil womb to hurt the kind people of this world. I am so sorry about what he did to you."

Funny enough, but when he had first entered Auschwitz, Schrodinger remembered liking Josef Mengele. He would often give candy and little treats to the little boys and girls of the camp, and always had a wide smile on his face. He would let you sit on his lap while he told you a story. The children loved him to pieces, so much so that they had nicknamed him "Uncle".

None of them could have ever suspected that he was the one committing the horrific atrocities that made even the tough-as-nails Russian liberators vomit, sob and quake with emotion. Frankly, when the cutting started, Schrodinger hardly believed that it was Mengele behind the knife. He remembered vaguely that for some time, he cried out to "Uncle" for help.

"He turned you into this thing", Jo told him, reaching up to pinch his ears, an action he didn't particularly care for under normal circumstances, "he made you do terrible things in the name of the Reich, and then he left you to die. But now, you have found your way to us!"

The women began crowding round him, cooing and gently rubbing him all over.

"And we have a wonderful place here, where you can stay, forever!"

He didn't want to stay in a room with these women forever. As great as that sounded, he had a new family; Milennium. Doc had made him better, and in his typical fashion, had taken all credit for his creation. The Major treated him as more than just an assassin. He even liked Logan, the thick-headed werewolf bastard, and he didn't want to live in a room with four people who reminded him of-

"What did Mengele make me do?"

The question spilled from his mouth so quickly, it was like his mouth was moving faster than his brain. His hands were reaching on their own, too. They had a very specific target in mind.

For a moment, the group was deathly silent. His hands stopped reaching, for fear of being noticed.

"He made you kill your own sister", Jo said, as if she had poison in her mouth, "the bastard."

"Do you know how that made me feel?"

His hands found their target, and gently undid the clasps.

"How did that make you feel, sweet heart?"

His hands found their target; soft wood and cold steel.

"It made me feel like this."

Schrodinger yanked the Walther P38 free from Jo's holster, and fired a round into her chest. She gasped like she had been struck horribly, and wore a bewildered look on her face. She fell over backwards, blood beginning to pool from where she had been shot through the heart. Schrodinger turned to the left, and shot Joanna through the eye. He wheeled around and shot Josephina through the neck.

He turned towards Jojo, and shot her through one of her lungs. She gasped, and fell backwards, clutching her chest, her back striking against the wall behind her. She continued to gasp, as Schrodinger slowly advance on her, the handgun leveled at her head.

"S-stop", Jojo managed through gasps. "F-Felix, stop! W-we want – we want to... help... you!"

"Again", Felix asked Josef Mengele, "like how you helped make me 'better' in Auschwitz? Like how you helped make me a better assassin by making me kill my own sister, or leaving me to die in a ditch from a Russian bullet wound?"

"F-Felix-"

"She was my _world_! She meant _everything_ to me! I suffered in Auschwitz to save her life!"

"F-Felix, please-"

"My name isn't Felix", he told Uncle Mengele, leveling the pistol, "my name is Schrodinger now! I'm better than you could have _ever_ made me! And... and..."

For a moment, he saw the face of a woman. A woman who had shown him more compassion than he had known since 1944. But it was quickly replaced by the Angel of Death again. And he had his same, happy grin stretched across his face, almost as if to taunt him.

"...and I will have my revenge!"

Schrodinger pulled the trigger, and Mengele's face disappeared. It was replaced by a woman, who had not known the evil of her maker. He pulled the trigger again, hoping in vain that Josef's face would return, and that he would have some satisfaction in destroying it. But it did not come back. It was that same woman, now with an extra hole in her head.

Schrodinger burst into tears, his whole body collapsing in on itself. He sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed, thinking about his mother, who left them too soon, his father, who couldn't have left soon enough, and his sister, his beautiful baby sister, whom he had changed his entire life for. Wearing dresses to make her smile, doing her makeup for her... and the Nazis who had found him.

No, not them. He had believed in their cause. He had submitted willingly, to save his sister. Everything they had done to him, it was all consensual. He had believed in them. All of them. Except Mengele. He had taken everything from him and left him to die.

And now he had killed him. He had his revenge.

But it felt so hollow.

So he wept.

...

"Another lesson, young one", Anna asked Seras.

The question alone made her face burn. Truth be told, Seras hadn't felt young in quite some time. Her childhood had been brutally stolen from her... hearing Anna call her young was strange, almost alien... and a bit embarrassing. Furthermore, whenever Anna mentioned the word "lesson", her mind went to thoughts she shouldn't have been thinking.

"Of course", she blurted out quickly.

She received a strange look from Anna, but ultimately, she didn't hold any hope of Anna thinking any more highly of her. She had received more than a few of those strange looks, and frankly, she didn't think they looked a lot like Anna giving her the benefit of the doubt. The Mercs gave her strange looks, too, although those were a lot harder to understand. All of it made her embarrassed. She wanted this stupid thing in her brain to stop being a thing.

Anna turned, and moved for the front of the car. Seras sheepishly stood up and followed. She could feel the eyes of the Mercs on her the whole way to the back. Strange, but she couldn't feel the normally wondering eyes of Alucard, as if he was afraid to even look in Anna's direction.

Or, maybe, as if he were ashamed to look in Anna's direction?

Anna turned and raised her sword. Seras stopped, planted her feet like Anna had taught her, and raised her own sword.

"Today, we will learn how to move with the sword", Anna told her. "The sword must become an extension of yourself if you are to wield it well. Your body must flow like a river if you are to have the most power from your strikes."

This woman sure did love her nature similes. Seras wondered if she fought all natural, too-

She shook her head, fighting the blush that rose to her cheeks. She had to get her mind off of this. She had to think about something, anything else.

"So, why do you hate Alucard so much?"

The question rolled out of her mouth before she had a chance to fully process it. Anna raised an eyebrow in response. It seemed to catch her a little off-guard.

"He's a filthy vampire", she said, as if that answered the question in full.

"So, then, do you hate me, too?"

"Yes", she said with complete deadpan.

"So why are you helping me?"

"Someone has to", she replied with a shrug.

"Okay", Seras said hesitantly. "But, why do you hate Alucard so much?"

"I don't hate him any more than any other vampire", Anna told her simply.

"But... why do you always try to get a rise out of him?"

Anna lowered her sword.

"I... wasn't aware that I was doing that. I must work on restraining myself. Thank you, Seras."

Almost instantaneously, Seras' face went tomato red.

"S-sure, no problem."

"Perhaps it's because he defeated me", Anna said thoughtfully.

"W-when did he do that?"

"During the Great War", Anna said as if in deep thought. "There was a battle. I was leading an army of British soldiers against his Germans. It was a feint; the real mission was an assassination attempt against Alucard. The British promised me a battalion of soldiers in my hunt for Dracula if I felled him."

Anna glanced over at the man who had his head pointed at the ground, his glasses pushed all the way up against his face.

"As you can see, I was unsuccessful."

"What happened", Seras asked.

"He defeated me in a fair fight", Anna continued, "but he refused to kill me. He rode me all the way to Romania on horseback, and set me free. At first, I thought he did it to dishonor me, but now..."

For a moment, she was silent.

"I can see that he was right. The British had been employing an army of highly trained vampires to end the war quickly. I realize now that if I had succeeded in my goal, the army would not have stopped at taking Germany. They were not under British command; they were puppets to the Council of Thirteen."

"Council of Thirteen? Who are they?"

"Thirteen pre-flood vampires who decided to use the Great War as an excuse to send armies to either side. Their ultimate goal was world domination. Fortunately, they were unsuccessful."

"So, why do you think he set you free?"

"I", she hesitated. "I believe he was giving me a second chance."

For a moment, the two women were quiet.

"So", Seras said, in a calculated tone, "If he didn't do anything to you, what did Dracula do to you?"

"Do you mean besides enwrapping ten generations of my family into a curse which will doom them to Hell if they do not kill him, slaughtering my people, destroying my country, killing my father, indirectly killing my brother, and turning me into this?"

Seras blinked. That was a long rap sheet.

"Y-yes?"

Anna looked off into the distance, her eyes narrowing. Seras noticed that her hand clenched into a fist. Yet when she spoke, her tone was even.

"I believe he killed the only man I ever loved."

"Who?"

Anna turned that gaze on her.

"Gideon Ananias."

...

The sword lesson had been a difficult one, but by the end of it, Anna was giving Seras her congratulations. Trying not to smile too big, she made her way back to the general area of her seat. Making herself comfortable in these chairs was like trying to stop a speeding train with her bare hands, but even that couldn't knock the grin off of her face.

What finally ended it was when Alucard slid in the seat beside her.

"She said she barely even knows you", Seras told him before he could speak.

"She does", he replied, in an almost depressed tone of voice. "She doesn't know me by this face, though. I mean, except for the Great War."

"What do you mean, 'by this face'?"

Alucard seemed to sink in his chair.

"I was implanted as a spy in Anna's court. I was her most trusted advisor."

"Really?"

"Yep."

"And who might that have been?"

Alucard looked away.

"A man who betrayed her. He came to my- our castle seeking immortality in exchange for information. I immortalized him in my stomach."

"Ok, but who?"

Alucard was silent once more. Seras was beginning to realize just how surprised she was to see him in this state. It was like he was a whole different person. Almost as if he was truly remorseful for what he had done.

"Gideon Ananias."

Seras was absolutely stunned. No wonder Alucard felt so awful about being around Anna.

"While I was embedded", Alucard told her, "Anna was... Anna and I... she made me feel like I was the only person on earth. She made me feel like she really cared about me. She made me feel... loved. For the first time in my life."

He turned to look at Seras, and she could have sworn that for the briefest moment, his eyes looked like they were glistening.

"How can I tell her that it was all a lie? How could I tell her that the man she loved was first a traitor and then an imposter? How could I bring her so much pain when she made me feel so loved?"

A terrible web, Seras realized, had already been spun. And if Anna were to wipe away the cobwebs, she really wouldn't like what she found. Alucard was in a very precarious situation indeed, and what's more, it seemed like he genuinely cared this time.

But even as she thought this, something else gnawed at her brain. Alucard was Gideon. Which meant that the Gideon she saw in her vision had been Alucard... which meant that he was a shape-shifter.

How much more of her vision had been of her Master?


	18. Chapter 15: Down in a Hole

_Sometimes I wonder if things will ever change for the better. The world around me seems to constantly get worse; the enemies I fought against for generations now rule the world, right is wrong, up is down, yadda, yadda, yadda. Everything was bad when I was alive, and it's only gotten consistently worse. I'm starting to believe that the world will never change for the better, and that every action I take to defeat the evil is just delaying the inevitable. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 15: Down in a Hole

Funny, but it had been almost twenty-four hours and Seras still wasn't tired. She understood how things were going to be different now that she was... different... but she thought that when the sun started coming up, she would feel tired again, like how she had used to. She had worked the night shift often, so being awake when it was dark out was something she had already been used to, but the sun coming up usually signaled the end of her shift. When her shift ended, she usually felt pretty tired, but now she hardly ever felt tired, almost as if she was constantly running on adrenaline.

Alucard had slipped away from her some time ago, and she had been alone with her thoughts ever since. She had plenty of time to reflect on everything she had been told, and sorting through it all in her mind had been a task in and of itself. She was no detective, but she wasn't stupid, so looking at the evidence and allowing it to show her a picture had been something she would do rather often when the paperwork got boring.

The picture that was being painted now was quite terrible.

At some point in his life, Alucard had fought in Dracula's army. During that time, Dracula had gone to war with the Valarious family for whatever reason. Nine generations later, Anna continued the fight, and her advisor, Gideon, decided to betray her. He was consumed, and then impersonated, by Alucard, who embedded himself into Anna's inner circle, and had fallen in love with her unintentionally. After a large battle, Anna had been turned by Dracula as punishment, and then Alucard consumed Dracula. Or, maybe Alucard consumed Dracula, and then turned Anna himself.

_Or maybe Alucard had been Dracula all along__,_ the voice in the back of her brain whispered.

_But that wouldn't make sense! If Alucard was Dracula, then he should be dead! And if he actually is Dracula, then why is he working with the Helsings, sworn enemies of the supernatural? And furthermore, Dracula sounds far more intimidating than Alucard, so I don't see why he wouldn't just continue to call himself that. _

_Unless he's hiding something. _

But what could he possibly be hiding? And why?

"Excuse me, _mon ami_", broke the train of thought that Seras was having.

In fact, it quite startled her. She quickly turned to find Pip, cradling his upgraded FAL, with a slight smirk on his face.

"Is this seat taken, perchance?"

She was about to tell him to fuck right off when she remembered that moment at the café when they had walked through the door together. Pip was probably a terrible person who had probably done terrible things, but she had to admit that he did something for her. She still couldn't quite believe that she found him attractive.

"If you're asking for a seat", Seras said, narrowing her eyes, "I'm told it's a free country."

"Ah, _magnifique_! The _best_ kind of freedom! Freedom of Seat! Ha!"

His sense of humor, she began to realize, was all just cleverly disguised sex jokes. While she tried to unravel what juvenile humor had been injected into that little one-liner, he slid in beside her. For a moment, neither party spoke. Pip glanced at her, and then returned his gaze to his rifle for a moment.

"So", Pip began, as if there hadn't ever been an awkward silence. "I see you training with the sword, yes? Learning the motions that will make your attacker falter at every step, which will tire your opponent and make him surrender willingly to your every whim!"

_Was that a handjob joke? _

"I think I would like you using a sword more, if all of your movements weren't taught by someone so obviously inexperienced herself!"

_Yep, definitely a handjob joke. _

"Inexperienced how", Seras asked him. "She's lived for, what, two hundred years now?"

"Not inexperienced with the sword, _mon ami_", he corrected, lifting a finger to his lips, "but at lying."

"Lying?"

"You see, every once in a while, you come across a woman who is not as quick with her tongue as she thinks she is."

_Was that a blowjob joke? _

"When she tries to make it spin, it produces no feeling of warmth throughout your body, no feeling of being the only man in the world, no feeling of pleasure that comes between every individual stroke!"

_Definitely a blowjob joke. That one was far less subtle. _

"You see, _mon ami_, the point of lying is to convince the other party, and when the other party is unconvinced, you are forever known as a terrible liar!"

_Oh, goodness, was that an ADULTRY joke? _

"Look, Mr. Bernadotte", Seras began, "I'm sure you're going somewhere with this. Perhaps just getting to the point would help me understand exactly what the point is?"

Pip nodded, stretching himself out.

"Alright then, _mon ami_. Let's just lay it out to bake in the sun, like a lady of the night trying to blend in."

_Ok, that was kinda funny. _

"It is my firm and unwavering belief that the woman training you how to swordfight, Anna or whatever, is planning to betray us."

That caught Seras' attention.

"Why do you say that?"

"No outright denial, that's a start", Pip noted, as he pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket. "Do you mind?"

"Yes, actually, I do", Seras said with a frown.

Pip shrugged and replaced the cigarette to his coat.

"Well, _mon ami_, I say so for many reasons. First and foremost, my gut is telling me so, and eight years in the Middle East has taught me that listening to the gut is crucial to survival."

Seras wanted to debate that, but she understood it, too. There were many times when gut instinct saved her life on the night shift. Frankly, her gut wasn't telling her much of anything these days, but she wouldn't discount Pip's intuition.

"Secondly, I don't trust how quickly she changed sides."

She wanted to debate Pip on that, too, but she had already openly admitted that she hated vampires. The case against her was quite strong.

"Third and most importantly", Pip concluded, "she still hates every single one of us, openly admits to doing so, in fact. Yet here she is, training you in the archaic art of sword fighting, which, mind you, she can counter easily, because she has two guns at her hips now, too. And why would she train you in an art that she could easily counter? Because it makes us feel like we can trust her. That split-second of hesitation is all it takes for a bullet to pop an eye straight out of your skull."

It sounded like he was speaking from experience when he said that, but she wasn't about to ask him to elaborate; she had had just about enough of stories for one night. She did, however, spare a glance at Anna, who was rubbing an oily cloth over her sword. It looked like she was mumbling to it, almost as if the two of them, woman and sword, were having a conversation.

"Now", Pip continued, breaking her train of thought, "I know she's your girlfriend or whatever-"

"_WHAT_", Seras practically shouted, turning a furious glare on Pip and baring her teeth. "She is NOT my bloody _girlfriend_!"

"Alright, fine, she's not _ton amour_", Pip said defensively, retreating to the far side of his seat, and putting his hands up in surrender. "But she does have sway on you, no?"

"No she bloody well doesn't", Seras declared, jabbing an accusing finger into Pip's forehead.

"Good", Pip told her, lowering his hands, and standing up. "I just wanted to know that you'll be on _our_ side when the shooting starts."

He jammed his hands in his pockets, and slinked away, sliding into a seat near his Mercs, who all immediately began chattering like monkeys in a cage. Seras turned her gaze back towards Anna, who was still mumbling to her sword. But suddenly, she turned a gaze on the back of Alucard's head that would have made a lesser man drop dead.

And Seras began to wonder if Pip wasn't on to something.

...

Schrodinger hadn't remembered falling asleep, but when he woke up, his hands had been submerged in a puddle of blood. So, naturally, he had to look for a place where he could effectively wash his gloves. Trying to explain away to the old Chinese lady at the laundromat that it was just tomato juice had been difficult, but a big smile never hurt anyone's situation. Now, while he was waiting for his clothes to be washed away of his sins, he was trying to convince the bartender that he was of legal age to drink. And once again, a smile never hurt his situation.

Milennium had always considered him too young to be indulging in the acute amounts of alcohol that he enjoyed, but what did they know? He could heal himself so fast that getting drunk was almost a chore, so pounding several kegs of beer in a night wasn't a party trick so much as it was a lifestyle. It seemed to convince the bartender, however, so he got his seat at the counter next to a woman who they claimed could easily outdrink him.

She was chugging a bottle of vodka when he slipped into the seat next to her. Her cheeks were already a little bit rosy, but from the look on her face, a score was out of the question. His reception upon firmly placing himself on the stool was not a warm one.

"Not interested", she said, in a thick Romanian accent, "go away."

Frankly, Schrodinger hadn't even gotten a very good look at her, but now that he did, he could tell that he was almost taller than her, and at his tallest, he curved off at five-foot nothing. She was wearing all black, naturally, with her hood drawn up to hide her pale face. Her green eyes stared angrily at her bottle, refusing to meet his own, but the two black bangs near the outside of her eyebrows swished at his suggestion.

"Not interested in a little more drinking?"

"Not interested in you", she confirmed, as she turned her piercing glare on him.

Usually, the eyes were enough to make women go nuts, but she was particularly stubborn. If he really needed to, he could just whip out the ears, but then women just treated him like a household pet. He was still a bit awkward around the ladies, and since they usually ended up treating him like a kid, he was even less experienced beyond, "Hey, wanna hook up?". But he wasn't here for any of that, and besides, the point of his newly acquired ball cap was to keep a low profile.

"Good, because I just want to get drunk. I didn't want to take the bill anyway."

Schrodinger slapped two twenties down on the counter, saying, "Your most alcoholic whisky, please."

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. As the bartender passed him a forty of Jack, Schrodinger gave her a lopsided grin. He tore the top off and put it up to his lips, draining the liquid straight from the bottle.

That seemed to get her attention. She raised her own bottle after only a moment of hesitation, and drank greedily from it, watching him out of the corner of her eye. They both finished around the same time, and already Schrodinger was beginning to feel the tunnel-like thought that signified a buzz. It had been a long time, almost since he had joined Milennium, since he had gotten a proper amount of drink in his system. Actually, he was starting to wonder if the ladies weren't the only ones treating him like a kid anymore.

The Nazis had seen him for what he truly was; a vicious killer, one who could carry out any order perfectly and without impunity. He had been trained, mended... built for that very purpose, and during the winter wars in Mother Russia, they had made extensive use of those skills, even allowing him a Death's Head cap and SS uniform. Yet, here was Milennium, dressing him in Hitler Youth attire, and sending him off to go film people instead of doing what he had always been meant to do.

He understood that killing Alucard was Milennium's ultimate goal, and the fact that he was a major playing piece in that puzzle was a great honor. But they made it seem like he was only still just a child, even though his ultimate goal was to bring down the world's greatest monster.

They finished their bottles at the same time, both slamming them down on the counter. The woman turned a curious gaze on him, and he returned a confident grin. Suddenly, the green began to melt from her eyes, replaced by a piercing red.

"I smell blood on you, boy", the woman told him.

One thing Milennium hadn't forced him to change was the SS knife that he had been awarded after a particularly brutal assassination. From time to time, he still touched it for strength, and now was one of those times. It was clear to Schrodinger that this woman was very powerful, maybe even close to Alucard in some aspects.

"Oh, don't worry", the woman said, turning her gaze away, the green returning to her eyes. "I'm not going to rat you out. Who was the unlucky sucker?"

Schrodinger casually lifted his hand from his knife to scratch his head.

"Suckers, actually."

He suddenly felt very guilty. He didn't want to think of those poor women that he had ambushed that way. They had brought him into their home and shown him compassion, and he-

"Four of them, right? I smell four _very_ similar bloods. Though, they are inherently different, in their own similar way. Definitely clones. Maybe homunculi?"

Schrodinger blinked.

"Who _are_ you?"

The question had come out without much thought behind it.

"Oh, it doesn't matter", she told him with a dismissive flick of her wrist.

Suddenly, she perked straight up. She gasped, pulling air into her lungs like she was recovering for a strike to the gut. She crushed her bottle in her hand, squeezing it around the glass until it shattered in an instant, putting several deep cuts into her hand.

She wheeled around, dashing quickly to the table behind her, her hood flying off in the process. Her hair was very short everywhere else on her head, cropped short enough that it stayed very close to her skull, but long enough to demonstrate just how thick it really was.

Her fist slammed down on the table, getting everyone's attention.

"The man in black armor", she said carefully. "When did you see him?"

"Uh... yesterday?"

"WHERE", she practically screamed, grabbing the man by his collar.

"In the movie theater! Where else are you gonna see Batman?!"

The woman blinked.

"Oh", she said, releasing her grip on him. "I thought you were talking about someone else. My apologies."

She quietly and calmly returned to her seat, ignoring all of the curious glances she was getting. She sat gently back down into her seat, casually putting her arm up on the counter.

Schrodinger didn't really want to say anything to provoke her, but...

"Your hand is bleeding."

"It is", the woman asked neutrally.

She gingerly lifted her hand, examining it. One specific wound on her thumb caught her attention. She brought it up to her mouth, and sucked on it, giving little moans of pleasure as she did so.

"Yes, I can almost taste it... that seed that was planted inside of me... by my Master..."

Schrodinger decided, in that moment, that hoes were crazy, and that he had had enough of them. He jumped straight off of the stool, and ran for the door as fast as he could. He supposed he would just pick up his laundry early.

...

"...And that's the way the cookie fumbles", Pip finished.

Apparently, it was an inside joke between the Mercs, because instead of calling him an idiot, the Mercs all suppressed their snickering. Alucard was beginning to get increasingly bored with their dumb jokes, but he couldn't really complain, since he had yet to contribute to le funny. This entire train ride had been one large buzzkill for him, and frankly, he wanted off.

Fortunately, they were finally almost to their destination. Finally, this long, terrible ride was about to be over.

The only problem was that they would be stepping out of the frying pan and straight into Hell.

The seat next to him creaked, and he had to admit that he was surprised to smell Seras next to him. She didn't speak for a moment, perhaps feeling out the situation, perhaps finding the right words.

"I keep going back to something Mum told me", Seras admitted. "She said that there was a third party of some kind."

"I don't know who it is", Alucard quickly said.

"But you do, don't you", Seras countered. "You do know who it is!"

Alucard thought back to the day that more than likely brought his downfall.

"Abraham, who is this? Where are you going", the Swiss Guard yelled.

"Just a man", Abraham told him, limping up to the post at the end of the road leading out of the Vatican. "And I don't know where I'm going. But I can't stay here."

"Of course you can, Abraham", the Guard told him. "You killed Dracula, after all! You're a hero to Christianity!"

Abraham snorted.

"And will things change now that Dracula's reign has ended? Will the Pope's corruption be brought to light and addressed? I think not!"

That made the Guard bristle.

"Watch your tongue, Abraham", the Guard scolded. "Being a hero doesn't make you immune to punishment!"

"Punished for speaking my mind, yes", Abraham said dismissively. "Let us through, friend. We must leave."

"Where are you going, Abraham?"

"I don't know", Abraham admitted.

"England", Alucard said, in a voice that surprised Abraham.

Undoubtedly, he was about to comment on his grasp of the English language, but he was interrupted.

"Hold the gate shut", a Bishop shouted, as he came sprinting up, trying not to trip over his long robes. "Hold the gate shut!"

The bishop had a stack of papers in his hand. Abraham Van Helsing's final after-action report, never filed, since he had been in and out of the Vatican's infirmary for the entirety of his duration back home. An after-action report that revealed all; that revealed he, in fact, did not kill Dracula, that he was still at large, and still a threat to humanity.

"I'm sure you have time to explain _this_ before you leave!"

Abraham closed his eyes, inhaling slowly. When he opened them again, there was a look of acceptance in them. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I assure you he doesn't", Alucard interrupted, "and even if he did have time, he wouldn't waste it talking to a lump like you."

The bishop turned an angry glare towards Alucard.

"And this is him, then", the bishop asked angrily. "This is Dracula?"

"Name's Alucard", he corrected.

"Surely", the bishop said with a scowl. He turned back to Abraham, saying, "Well? Explain this!"

Abraham opened his mouth once more, and once more, Alucard cut him off.

"Tell you what", Alucard told the bishop, "how about a trade?"

The bishop turned his head, a curious gaze on his face.

"What kind of trade?"

"If you're so certain of who I am, then surely, a vial of my blood would suffice as a trade for those papers?"

Abraham turned a severe gaze on Alucard, but said nothing.

Alucard reached into his coat, producing one of the vials he had kept on him, on the chance that he ran into a werewolf. He pulled the cork out of the top, and clenched his hand around the cork. He put his hand up to his mouth, and bit into his finger, hard enough to get a sufficient leak going. He put the vial under the wound, filling it with his crimson essence.

When the small vial was about halfway full, he put the cork back in it, and passed it to the bishop. For a moment, the bishop merely stared at the vial. Then the bishop lunged for it. Alucard was faster, pulling it back.

"Papers first", Alucard told him with a wicked grin.

The bishop made a disgusted face, and thrust the papers towards him. Alucard ripped them from his hands, and tossed the vial to the bishop. The bishop, with a look of horror on his face, barely caught the vial. Alucard turned back to the Swiss Guard, the wicked grin still adorning his face.

"Weren't we supposed to be leaving by now?"

The Guard swallowed, and opened the gate. Man and beast walked through, ready to take on the world.

Yet even today, a nagging thought dictated to him that he had just orchestrated his own downfall.

"I don't know", Alucard told Seras. "It could be anyone. The only person who truly knew was Abraham Van Helsing. He sealed a deal with the third party, and sealed a letter containing their identity. He passed it down his family tree under strict orders not to open it, unless there was reasonable suspicion that the third party had been in some way corrupted."

Seras looked at him, wondering if what he was saying was true. She supposed it didn't matter. If he knew, he knew. But she didn't know.

"You talked a lot about Anna during that time long ago", Seras began, kind of shaky, "but I can't help but wonder where Van Helsing was during all of that?"

"You mean Abraham", Alucard asked.

"Yes", Seras affirmed.

"He was there the whole time... or, at least, most of it."

Alucard stretched out, putting his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes, his lips curling up into a smile.

"After my second encounter with Anna, she realized very quickly that she was out of her league. So, instead of committing deathpacito by pressing on by herself, as her forefathers had, she called for help in the form of Abraham Van Helsing. Now, Abraham had been in a wing of the Catholic Church at the time, but he wasn't officially apart of the church itself. He was initially apart of the Illuminati, and yes, they're real, and everybody hates them."

"Now, his job, basically, was to kick ass. They gave him baller-ass weapons, and he gave them bodies, but he wasn't the kind of kick-ass that you keep close to you, because he wasn't fanatically loyal to either the Catholic Church or the Illuminati. They mostly had him doing milk run jobs, and on the side, he would beat up evil-doers by himself. That was, until he found Anna Valarious' discarded letter."

"Some idiot had literally just thrown it in a trash bin, and Abraham happened by it. When he read it, he immediately asked the ranking members if he could go to Romania. Of course, they told him 'no', and they had a good reason to."

"You see, there was a traitor amongst our ranks, and they had been grooming him to take over my-ahem, Dracula's spot. When he found out, he left him on a Vatican flagpole, and naturally, they turned to Abraham to go snuff Dracula out. But, by then, he had already secretly packed up and left."

"They started supporting him with money and guns from afar, and somehow, he managed to keep it secret. I think he smuggled it all in with the food they were importing. I don't know, I never asked, I didn't care, you can all fuck yourselves."

"Funny enough, but until he went to Romania, he had never even seen a vampire. but before he left, he did as much research as he could. When he got to Romania, he had a knowledge edge over us."

"Yeah, he was quite a sight when he walked through Anna's door..."

A dusty duster, a wide-brimmed hat, and two huge revolvers at his sides. He was greeted at first by absolute silence, but slowly, as the Romanians realized that he wasn't an imposter, they began to show their appreciation through gratuitous shouting.

Abraham ignored it all, asking in a deep, booming voice, with a thick Dutch accent overlaying, "Where is the Queen Anna Valarious?!"

The room quickly went silent, and Anna stepped forward from the crowd. Abraham looked her up and down, noting the sword at her hip, and the man's clothing that she wore for combat purposes.

He nodded.

"We have work to do", he said, pushing through the crowd to find a private area.

"Yeah", Alucard told Seras, "he was something else. He quickly gained everyone's trust, mostly because he didn't seek to gain it, and before long, he was Chief Advisory for War Efforts. And frankly, he did it effortlessly. He conducted supply raids on our own supply raids, ambushes on our reconnaissance, and feint attacks on our strongholds. He had us fooled from the very beginning."

There had always been something about him, a certain sadness that he identified with, a certain numbness that he almost wished he could replicate, and yet an unwavering faith in the Lord that he had once had himself. Abraham was someone who he could see as himself in another time and place.

Dinner with the man near the head of the table was strange. Usually it had been filled with outsiders attempting to lick Anna's boots for clout, and insiders mumbling amongst themselves about strategy. Everyone on the inside was already well aware of the threat that Dracula placed on them, so unity amongst them was never a shallow act. Anna tended to stick with the insiders, mostly because she hated having the outsiders so much as speak to her.

But when Abraham was around, everyone was rather quiet. The insiders were satisfied that they had finally found a man who could effectively lead them, and the outsiders... it was like they were afraid to speak. Afraid to be ousted as the frauds they were.

Anna sat next to him, as occasionally they would share glances. Every time her eyes turned on his, his heart melted. When they weren't together in public, they would talk for hours, usually about nothing important, but in a place like this, those little glances were the world to him.

After one such glance, he turned his head to see how far into his meal Abraham had gotten. What he got instead was a curious glance from the man himself. Curious indeed, but cold, and calculating. He was about to do something important, and Gideon's reaction to it might seal his fate.

Abraham suddenly stood from the table, and quickly asked, "How quickly would we be able to find a spy amongst the ranks?"

The table fell silent. People stopped moving mid-chew, some whilst still bringing food up to their mouths. Everyone was staring at him, and his eyes darted from man to man in turn.

Yarl, the man in charge of security, stood in his wrinkled and thinning uniform, the bags under his eyes accented by the lighting.

"We have men who are trained specifically to root out vampires amongst the ranks", he explained. "Dracula has tried planting spies before, and each time, we have stopped him. If you are worried about an assassination plot-"

"I'm not worried about assassins", he dismissed. "The assassin comes to do his job quick; too quick, he makes mistakes, he is easily found. Furthermore, he is easily countered. But what of a man who is not here to kill, but to learn? He is slow, careful, he takes his time, he is hard to find because he _thinks ahead_."

Yarl narrowed his eyes, saying, "I'm not certain I know where you're going with this."

"Is there any certain way to tell a vampire from a man?"

Yarl chuckled, saying, "There is garlic in every meal we have."

"The spy would not be warded off by garlic", Abraham told him. "The spy knows that garlic does not kill vampires, so he eats it happily. If it makes him sick, he hides it. Because he has _learned_ that being human is all too easy."

The table was silent again.

"Mr. Helsing", Yarl said hesitantly, "are you saying that there is a spy amongst our ranks?"

For a moment, the silence persisted. Abraham straightened his shirt, redoing the collar on it. He calmly retook his seat.

"No", Abraham said carefully. "I am simply curious."

Anna glanced Gideon's way. It was not the accusing glance that he had dreaded, rather a concerned look that brought relief flooding through him. However, that may not be the case forever.

It was time to make his move.

"Two weeks later, I caught him alone."

The wood shed was not a place that was particularly inhabited by any one person; everyone was expected to do their fair share here. Since most of the town was on high alert at all times, there were almost never any unexplained disappearances from the Valarious household, so there was really no need to go anywhere in pairs. Abraham ending up alone in the woodshed was bound to happen at some point.

He recognized him before he had even stepped in behind him. And almost immediately, he reached for his gun. A quick maneuver disarmed him, and the big iron clattered to the ground. Abraham glanced back up, meeting his eyes, reaching for his other gun simultaneously. He wasn't fast enough.

The hand grabbed his forehead, and suddenly, they were both encased in fog. The wood shed was gone, replaced by an endless sea of rolling, silent fog. Dracula paced around him, as he once again attempted to reach for his gun, only to find it missing from the holster. Abraham slowly relaxed his hand.

"What do you want?"

"You assume I don't already have what I want", Dracula asked, continuing his pacing.

"If you did", Abraham said simply, not meeting his eyes anymore, "I would be dead."

"Very perceptive", Dracula commended. "I need your help."

"I'll never help you", Abraham told him.

"You don't understand", Dracula told him. "My army plans to invade Turkey by the month's end. We've learned from all of our mistakes. This time, we will be unstoppable. This time, we will conquer the whole world."

"So then", Abraham said sarcastically, "it sounds like you don't need my help at all!"

"They don't", Dracula told him, nodding in the direction of his castle. "I do. I want out."

Abraham turned his head in his direction. Apparently, he had his attention. he was a little too smart to prompt Dracula, however; clearly, his silence indicated that he wanted the most information he could get out of the conversation.

"I have begun to realize what ruling the world will require of me", he explained, "and I don't want it. I have found something else that I want for myself."

"I know who you are", Abraham told him. "It's not like you to suddenly change your heart."

"You have no reason to believe me", Dracula told him, "and certainly no reason to help me."

"But I do believe you", Abraham said, aligning himself with Dracula, staring down a creature that was easily a head and a half taller than him.

"Then I want you to kill me."

Both men were silent for a moment.

"Why me?"

Suddenly, someone called Abraham's name. Dracula's head snapped to the sound, his demeanor changing. He would have recognized that voice anywhere.

"It is too late", Dracula told him. "It is time for me to leave."

The fog dissipated, and with it, Dracula faded away.

Anna dashed into the wood shed, yelling, "Abraham, come quickly! You will want to see this!"

The Dutchman followed quickly behind the Romanian woman, leaving the pair of red eyes behind the wood pile alone.

"Well", Seras asked, giving Alucard a start. "What happened?"

"Uh, well", Alucard said, not realizing that he had spaced out, "nothing, actually. I just talked to him for a moment."

"And you felt the need to tell me this why?"

"You're getting snappy, Police Girl, but I certainly hope your reflexes are better than your wit. And possibly wetter."

"Oh, forget this", Seras said standing up. "I'm gonna go talk to someone who has a vagina."

"Tell Pip I said 'hi'."

...

"I _suppose_ I could fight in a dress", Anna told Seras. "I have fought in nothing but a nightgown before. But pants are much more streamlined."

Seras only half-listened, tugging at her shorts.

"And don't get me _started _on long hair. Yes, it is, technically, a tactical disadvantage, but if I were to trim it down, it would be an admittance that someone has ownership of me. And since I'm neither owned, nor a masochist, I shall not be slave to man, woman, or child."

"Yep, you tell 'em, girl."

"I remain free, and so shall my hair."

"Uh-huh."

"Though I probably should cut it. Every advantage I can gain over Dracula is a needed advantage."

Suddenly, in the dark recesses of Seras' mind, a question formed.

"How powerful _is _Dracula?"

Anna looked at her sideways, taking on a thousand-yard stare.

"He's unstoppable", she finally told her, turning back to look at her feet.

On impulse, Seras reached over to give her shoulder a comforting pat. When her hand touched Anna's shoulder, her vision changed. Suddenly, she was hiding behind a pile of rubbish, mostly split wood. She was no longer in a train car, but instead she was in a decrepit and poorly lit sawmill. Equipment had been broken, tables had been overturned, and a large group of men, almost fifteen of them in total, were fighting desperately against an unseen enemy.

The noise of the place was overwhelming; something like cannons boomed, projectiles smacked into every conceivable area, and the sound of marching kept getting louder and louder. She heard a whimper next to her, and she squeezed her brother's arm, hoping he wouldn't feel her trembling.

Through an open doorway, the only glimpse of the battle she could get, fading sunlight glistened off of armored men, carrying older rifles that bellowed and belched white smoke as they advanced closer and closer to the sawmill. It was like they were completely surrounded by a sea of metal and smoke.

Suddenly, a hand, clad in black armor, with what looked like sharpened claws for fingers, raised up from the sea. Almost immediately, the sea stopped its advance, and the soldiers all put their weapons in a resting position. The hand went down, and was lost amongst the sea again.

The knights all let their weapons fall, their weariness evident. Some of them were heaving rapidly, having had to reload their percussion cap rifles faster than ever. One brave man poked his head over the table. He quickly ducked back down, mumbling about how odd it was that they would stop when they had them dead to rights.

Captain Rain coughed.

"Unstoppable", he breathed. "His army, his machines... he's unstoppable."

"Courage, men", Hogarth Valarious, Anna's unwavering father called out. "We have never in our history been as close as we are today! Valarious Knights in the past have seen his face... and felt his blade. But today, we are united! Romanians, Catholics, all may call this land home now! And all stand against Dracula!"

No calls of, "They stop, for they fear", no cries of, "Off with his head", and no roars of, "Victory or death!"

These men knew all too well how terrible their situation was.

Captain Rain quickly approached Hogarth, and said, in a low whisper, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that, actually. The Vatican will send no more reinforcements."

Hogarth did not become enraged by this news. He did not shout that the world was unfair. Instead, he let out a long exhale.

"So", he said evenly, "this is the end."

"My four groups are all on their way", the good Captain told Hogarth. "Maybe together, we stand a chance."

"I doubt they will get here in time", Hogarth said evenly. "I would rather let Dracula come to me, as it is."

"Why would you", the Captain asked, appalled. "He chose the ground that we stand on! This is _his_ endgame, not yours!"

"It has always been his endgame", Hogarth told him neutrally. "Every battle we've every fought with him has always been his. The Vatican was our last hope."

"So you would give up?"

"Perhaps you have a clever idea, Captain?"

The Captain, for a moment, was deathly silent. Slowly, he opened his mouth.

"I've never seen a vampire attack like this in broad daylight. He is efficient, ruthless. My men and I have been training since childhood to fight creatures like him. We _have_ fought creatures like him. What was different this time?"

"Like I said in my letter", Hogarth said, shaking his head, causing his eyepatch to slide a little, "there _are_ no monsters like him. He is ruthless and efficient, yes, but he has thought behind it all; and what's more, he has a moral code. Had he known my boy and girl were along today, I don't believe he would have fought at all."

Hogarth reached out a hand, patting the Captain on his shoulder.

"It is not hard to understand him. He was once like us, strong in the faith. But he was wronged, terribly wronged. Revenge corrupts _all_, Captain. If he fought like a Christian today, it is only because he knows us better than we know ourselves. He has seen our weakness, knows our strengths, and uses both against us. But he cannot win, Captain, for he knows not himself. If he does not die today, he will be stopped another way."

Captain Rain glanced at the two children behind the woodpile.

"And you know all of this, how?"

"The Valarious knew Dracula all too well. When he was a man, we fought alongside him. We love him and respect him, and we want to rid him of this disease that has corrupted him. This is a fate he does not deserve."

"Tell that to my men he left bleeding on that field", with that declaration, the Captain spat on the ground.

"The Vatican has never understood like we do", Hogarth continued, "but they always had the resources we needed. Now, their ignorance will leave us, Romania... no, the whole world shall be led to a dark fate because of today. Your men, Captain, they are to be remembered as the first few of the many to come."

Captain Rain leveled a look at Hogarth.

"Yurik", he called, "any openings?"

"No, sir", Yurik, one of the few knights still clad in some armor called. "Their formation is as tight as a drum, and we have not the firepower to sufficiently beat it."

"I'll be the judge of that", Captain Rain told him. "Will you give up then, Hogarth of Romania? On your children, no less?"

"They are the only ones in this room who are safe", Hogarth said confidently. "He will not harm them."

"I have seen creatures like him disembowel babies for _fun_. Do you want that to happen to them?!"

"You aren't listening, Captain", Hogarth said. "I told you, he is different. You've been fighting fully-fledged monsters your whole life, but this is not a fully-fledged monster!"

The Captain paused for a moment.

"Are you insinuating", he began, "that Dracula is still at an infantile stage in his development?"

"He is fully developed", Hogarth said, "but he is not fully monster."

"When people like you think like this", the Captain began, but he was cut off.

"HEAR, YE", a booming voice called out.

The room quickly went silent, and everyone stopped what they were doing, grabbing cover as fast as they could.

"Knights of Romania", the voice continued, "and of the Vatican. You are surrounded, your armies crushed. Your stand is a noble attempt, and because of it, I shall grant you this one mercy; a warrior's death. Prepare yourselves."

As the speech ended, fog began to silently roll towards the sawmill. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, and it seemed to be materializing out of thin air, swirling around the ankles of the steel-clad not-men. Captain Rain checked his percussion cap revolver, making sure every cylinder was loaded, and went to join his men by the makeshift fortifications. Hogarth, Anna's father, turned to where his two children were hiding, making his way towards them.

He knelt down in front of the two of them. His one eye gazing softly at each of them in turn.

"I am so sorry", he told them. "I have failed you both as a father, for a father's burden is to make certain that his own burdens are not passed down to his children. You know of the curse that our family is under, young ones?"

Anna nodded. She could hear her brother's hair swishing beside her.

"This curse will now be up to the two of you to break. I would rather you two had a choice in this, but... the curse is on your heads as well. And I would rather die than see either of you go to Hell."

He drew in a long breath, and continued.

"I will not survive this battle. But as long as my soul lives, I love both of you with all of my heart. Always remember this when you think of me. Anna, take care of your younger brother, make sure he has someone to turn to in his times of need, and someone to turn him away from his obsessions. And Christopher, take care of your older sister, as we both know that she will work herself too hard. Make certain you are there to stop her when she is exhausted."

Anna could hardly believe what he was saying. She didn't want her father to die, not now, not ever. Beside her, she could hear her brother begin to silently sniff as tears undoubtedly welled up in his eyes. Hogarth swept both of them up into a hug, and planted a gentle kiss onto each of their heads.

"I love both of you, and always remember, the LORD is your Shepherd."

He hugged them again, pulling them tightly to him. But outside, the sound of a heavy metallic boot hitting the ground began sounding out, as if someone in armor was stomping slowly up to the sawmill. The sound caused him to freeze completely, and he slowly released his children.

He stood up, drawing the Valarious family sword from its sheath, and slowly backed up towards the group of knights. As the sounds of footfalls continued, Anna could see the knights tensing up. They were all tired, but they were all willing to go down fighting. They lifted their weapons, and slowed their breathing, preparing for action.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk. _

"Can anyone pin that sound down?"

"Even if we could", Yurik pointed out, "the fog is so thick that we can't see through it. We would be wasting shots."

"We might just have to", Captain Rain told him, in a voice that sounded tired.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk. _

Anna looked back over at the doorways to see if she could see what was making the noises, but all she could see was fog, which hovered in front of the doorways, and strangely, wouldn't come in. She glanced back at the knights, and she could see sweat dripping off of most of their faces. She couldn't see Yurik's face under his helmet, but she was certain that he was sweating, too.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk. _

Christopher began sniffing again, and Anna squeezed his arm, hoping that would make him quiet. The less noise the two of them made, the less likely they were to draw those monsters' attention. He obediently quieted, but he squeezed her hand in return.

_Clunk, clunk, clunk. _

And all was quiet.

The knights began swinging their eyes from opening to opening, trying to see their enemy. Their eyes tightened, as did their mouths, and the sweat came down in greater droves. On some of them, their hands shook.

"GLORY TO GOD", one of the knights cried out, and ran from his cover, towards an open doorway.

"No, stop", Hogarth called out, but it was too late.

The man disappeared into the fog.

And reappeared only seconds later, sliding in on his back, trailing blood on the ground behind him. A huge dent had been left in his chest, and he slid awkwardly to a stop at Captain Rain's feet. He didn't move, but his eyes were wide open, in surprise and shock.

Anna reached over to cover Christopher's eyes and mouth, and as she did so, she noticed that some fog had crept into the building from one of the windows. It appeared to be travelling upwards, towards the roof, but it quickly dissipated. She thought it was a little odd, and her eyes traveled up to the ceiling, following its trail.

Hanging from the ceiling by his feet was a pale man in black armor. He had a cloak wrapped around himself, which inexplicably defied gravity, covering him down to his ankles. His long black hair seemed to defy gravity as well, falling almost lazily at his shoulders. But his eyes, red as fire, watched the knights that were under him in the proper direction.

Anna wanted to cry out, but she remembered her father's words, and she realized that she had to stay quiet. The knights slowly began retreating from the doors, walking directly beneath the man in black armor, and tears began welling up in her eyes. She opened her mouth to call out, but now she found she couldn't say anything at all, her voice strangled by fear.

Slowly, the man in black lifted his left arm, revealing a sheathed sword under his cloak. He slowly lifted his hand to it, and pushed his thumb against the hilt. It clicked out of place, sliding out of the sheath towards the ground. The man in black fell after it, directly into the center of the group of knights.

Her father was the first to notice, and he wheeled around, striking at the man in black, but the man blocked the strike. The other knights began turning, and one of them fired his rifle. The man in black dodged so fast, that the bullet missed him, striking another knight in the forehead. Another knight wheeled around with his rifle, and the man in black grabbed it, twisting the barrel up and around so that the gun was useless.

Three more swords clattered against the man in black's, and he expertly deflected each strike, even swapping hands to do so. The men with guns began stepping back, and the man in black seemed to notice. He leaped backwards, twirling the sword around so that it pushed through the abdomen of one of the riflemen. The man twisted his whole body around, and launched the body of the rifleman through the air, into two other riflemen who were preparing to shoot.

Another rifleman close by thrust his bayonet forward. The man in black parried, throwing the bayonet harmlessly away, and then thrust forward, skewering the man's neck. He withdrew his sword, and twirled, decapitating the rifleman.

Two knights with swords attacked him, and he deflected their strikes, slicing one knight's leg off, and thrusting his sword underneath the armpit of the other. He jumped onto the knight he wounded earlier, driving his sword through his chest. Another swordsman rushed him, and as he swung, the man in black let go of his sword, and stepped out of the man's way. He grabbed the sword with his other hand, and pushed it into the man's ribcage, twirling violently to tear open the man's chest.

With the sword now in his other hand, he deflected more sword strikes, even a few from Anna's father, who suddenly stepped out of the way. Behind him, a rifleman fired his rifle, the shot aimed squarely at the man in black's head. The man in black swung his sword so quickly it was like a blur, and the bullet glanced off his sword, blasting through a swordsman who was preparing for a strike.

The knights, seemingly understanding that their enemy had a knowledge of guns that they couldn't defeat, began throwing away their rifles, and drawing their swords. It seemed as though this was what the man in black wanted to Anna, because she could just briefly catch a glimpse of a smirk on his face as the last rifle clattered to the ground.

The man in black turned, and ran for an exit.

"STOP HIM", Captain Rain shouted, "DON'T LET HIM ESCAPE!"

One of the closest knights, a Romanian, was able to easily keep up with him, all the way up until the man in black veered to the left and ran up the wall. He decapitated the knight from above with a single fell swoop, and stopped.

"You underestimate me", the man said, a smirk growing on his face, "Captain Rain."

This seemed to startle Rain, and it gave the man in black enough time to lunge off the wall and onto a knight, breaking his back, and ending up putting him in the center of the action again. Despite the fact that he only had one sword, he deflected all of their strikes with ease, stepping almost casually, and twirling his sword around himself in a shell-like shield of metal.

He began focusing on a certain group of three knights, and had his back turned to the remaining group of three. They all coordinated, bringing their swords down on his back. At first, Anna allowed herself to relish in the thought of them defeating this monster.

But the monster was prepared. He lifted his other hand, and made a fist, and from it came a long, black pole, extending out to either side. It almost didn't seem real, like it was a giant mirage, and it caught the three swords deftly. He threw the swords up with the pole, and then thrust both of his legs out behind him, smashing an armored knight straight in the chest, caving in his armor. Blood gushed out of his mouth as he flew back into the wall behind him, crashing through it, and stumbling out the other side, falling dead before the man's followers.

Still balancing on only his hands, the man in black swept his legs around, tripping the three knights he had been focusing on, and threw out his arm holding the black pole. It turned into a long whip-like tendril, and wrapped around the neck of one of the knights behind him. He yanked him into Yurik, making both of them fall over.

One of the knights in the first group of three recovered quickly, and the man in black lunged for him, grabbing him under the armpit and carrying him to the other side of the sawmill. The knights recovered in time to watch the man in black sink his teeth into the knight's neck. The knight screamed in pain as he was drained of his blood.

"MONSTER", Captain Rain yelled, as he ran after him.

The man in black smirked again, and threw the limp corpse at Captain Rain, knocking him to the ground. He lunged for the three remaining knights, spinning his sword around. He closed the distance on one knight, and sawed him in half with his spinning blade.

"GRAPPLE", Yurik called, throwing down his sword.

The man in black seemed to understand what he was implying, and sheathed his own sword. He locked his hands behind his back, around his cloak, revealing the extent of his armor, which hadn't even been scratched this entire time.

Anna was certain her father would change that.

Yurik seemed to be offended by this stance, and he lunged forward, throwing a fist towards the man in black's face. He dodged deftly, planting his knee into the knight's chest. Yurik stumbled back, apparently winded by the strike, but he quickly followed up with another blow from his left hand. Once again, the man in black dodged deftly, throwing a knee into Yurik's chest. Anna could see from the way Yurik turned that the man in black was putting dents in his chest plate. Yurik twirled, throwing a kick up at the man in blacks' head. The man in black ducked, and then countered, throwing a kick of his own at Yurik's helmet. Yurik's helmet twisted all the way around, his surprised eyes meeting Anna's, and Yurik fell over, dead.

"VLAD", Hogarth called.

The man in black seemed startled by this name. He stopped in his tracks, and turned towards Anna's father.

"Beloved Vlad", he continued, sheathing his sword, "how we, the Valarious, have missed you so! We were once great allies, oh so long ago, and we have not forgotten the kindness that you showed us in our war for survival. It pains every Valarious throughout time to see you like this. They wouldn't want this for you... I don't want this for you."

The man in black... Vlad... stared him down, his cloak blowing in the light breeze that had begun.

"So then", Vlad said, "what _do_ you want for me?"

"I want you to be free of this curse on your flesh", Hogarth told him. "I want your soul to pass on to Heaven!"

Vlad stared at Hogarth, his gaze level. His cloak continued to flap in the breeze, snapping at his ankles. Slowly, he reached up to the clasps on his cloak, by the neck, and undid them, letting the cloak float to the ground.

The armor underneath was blackened, but it looked like it had been made that way. At various ends, the armor became wicked points, as if to ward off anyone who wished to embrace him. Vlad reached his hand down to his sword.

"Then come", Vlad told Hogarth, "and take this curse from me."

"I do so", Hogarth told him, as he reached for his own sword, "with a heart that is both heavy, and glad beyond comprehension! Today, Vlad, is a glorious day!"

"I am Vlad no more", the man in black told him. "Have you forgotten that my name is Dracula?"

"I'll free you of that cursed name", Anna's father yelled, as he brought his sword down on Dracula.

The fight that ensued was an example of fine swordsmanship. Each swordsman twirled and danced around the other as if improvising some grand ballet. They each kept themselves protected, and each lashed out at one another with equal measure. However, it wasn't but a few minutes in that one of the men began to tire.

Hogarth began slowing down, just enough for Dracula to get a firm push in. As Hogarth stumbled away, Dracula's blade seemed to quiver and shake with a strange darkness to it, almost as if it were a blackened and burnt mirage.

Hogarth charged again, and Dracula jumped over him, and landed behind him, bringing his sword down into the area where the neck connects to the left shoulder. Hogarth stumbled, and Dracula released his grip on his sword, stepping back. Hogarth dropped down to his knees.

Anna could swear that she wasn't seeing what her eyes were telling her. Her father wore chainmail patches over gambeson under all of the exposed spots of his armor. Everyone knew, and Anna was personally witness to the fact, that swords simply couldn't pierce plate or mail armor, and usually had trouble with gambeson. If this sword had just cut through mail and gambeson, much less plate and gambeson, then it was unstoppable and undefeatable.

And, she realized with a start, her father had just been killed.

Dracula walked around to Hogarth's front, and pulled his sword from the man's shoulder, the blade followed closely by a geyser of blood.

"You are a worthy adversary, Hogarth Valarious", Dracula told him. "You move forward with the teachings of your family, both in faith and sword. For this reason, I will give you a quick death."

"But will it set you free, my friend", Hogarth asked, in a surprisingly calm voice, as blood squirted out of his wound. "With my last breath, I shall bring you peace."

Hogarth flung his sword out, throwing all of his strength behind it. Dracula deflected, and spun, cleaving Hogarth's head from his shoulders. His neck gushed blood as his body fell limply to the ground.

Her brother squeaked.

It briefly caught the attention of Dracula, making him turn his head slightly in the childrens' direction.

A pistol crack brought his attention back to Captain Rain. The man had finally stood up, and was stumbling towards Dracula, with blood dripping down the side of his face, and hatred in his eyes, thumbing down the hammer on his percussion cap revolver, and firing it at Dracula. The small balls sparked off of his armor as he lunged for the Captain.

Just as the Captain had the hammer thumbed down again, Dracula grabbed the body of the pistol and twisted to the outside of his body, forcing his finger against the trigger, and causing the revolver to discharge harmlessly into the ground. Dracula cruelly ripped the gun from the man's hand so fast that it seemed a blur. It happened so fast that Anna almost didn't notice how the man's skin had caught in the trigger guard, and had been ripped free of his finger, like a glove being removed, leaving behind white and red meat, and the barest hint of bone.

The Captain howled in pain as the bunched-up skin smacked against the ground, with blood dripping after it. Dracula cocked the hammer on the pistol, and put a shot through the man's leg. He howled again, and knelt to the ground.

"Captain Rain", Dracula told him, as the Captain clutched his wounded hand. "You have not shown me a tenth of the courage that your men have. I expected more from an Englishman, drafted by the Vatican though you are."

"The Vatican has nothing to do with this", the Captain admitted, looking up at Dracula with a grin. "They stopped sending support years ago, and then, suddenly, decided to aid Romania in a final, desperate effort against you? Good God, man, use your head!"

"Then who are you?"

"I'm still Captain Rain", he told him with that same grin. "You murdered my uncle. Me and my boys want revenge."

"Boys", Dracula asked, narrowing his eyes.

Suddenly, explosions sounded outside of the sawmill, and one of the walls was busted down. Moments later, a slew of men came charging in, the last visage of the sun dipping beneath the earth behind them. Dracula paused, and Anna got a good look at their weapons; lever-action rifles, revolving rifles, more percussion cap pistols, one man holding two of them, large brass cylinders that were propped up on men's shoulders, and one man even carried a hand-held and heavily modified Puckle Repeating Gun.

The two parties stared at each other, both quite stunned. Dracula stared down man, his eyes narrow, and man stared down Dracula, his eyes wide.

Captain Rain reached slowly towards the ground, gripping a small mound of sawdust in his hands. He threw it into Dracula's face, briefly blinding him. Captain Rain jumped out of the way, and then the humans unleashed hell on Dracula.

Every gun fired, deafening Anna's ears. The actions worked hard to keep up with how quickly the men were trying to fire. Bullets ricocheted off of Dracula's armor, sparking against the black metal as they did so. Anna had never seen steel armor that was able to block bullets like that. It was either thicker than it looked, or it was enchanted somehow.

The one with the Puckle Gun, the thing modified into a percussion cap handheld machine-cannon, turned the handle, and the gun boomed. The first shot barely missed Dracula, who was being jerked around by all of the bullets hitting him. The handle turned again, and the gun boomed once more. The second shot hit him squarely in the chest, launching him across the sawmill. He clattered to the ground, a limp heap, but the men didn't stop firing. Dracula's head was split open by dozens of bullets, spilling its contents like a rotten melon.

The last visage of the sun disappeared behind the men.

Instantly, the room darkened, and Dracula stood up, his wounds closing so fast it was hard to imagine what they had been like before they had healed. He opened his palms upward, and lifted up his hands, and the entire group of men were impaled by dark energy. Dracula lowered his hands, and the men all fell to the ground, pools of blood growing around them.

Dracula returned to Captain Rain, who had picked his revolver up off of the ground with his left hand, and began firing wildly at Dracula. Dracula deflected one of the balls with the palm of his hand, and it implanted itself into Captain Rain's gut. Captain Rain doubled over, and Dracula lunged, grabbing him up by his neck. He sunk his teeth in, and the Captain quickly became a withered husk of a man.

Dracula let him fall to the ground, just as more armored men, their eyes glowing red, stormed into the building. A short, black-haired woman shoved in past them, with what appeared to be a dagger in her hand, though it was wavering in the same mirage-like state that Anna had seen earlier.

"Master, Master", the woman yelled, vying for a glimpse of Dracula.

"Yes, Yasya", Dracula called to her.

"Make way", she shouted at the men, and they instantly stopped in their tracks and parted.

She barreled through them to Dracula's feet, and instantly bowed there in the most humiliating of fashions, with her knees and elbows alike on the dirt.

"Forgive me, my lord", she said in a voice that sounded very emotional. "They were upwind of us. They took us completely by surprise."

"They were professionals", Dracula dismissed with a wave of his hand. "You are forgiven."

She knelt at his feet, her head still bowed, and said, "Their armies have been defeated. Romania's rebellion and the Vatican's interference are no more."

"Then we can focus on building this army", Dracula told her. "But in order to do so..."

He turned, and walked over to Hogarth's decapitated body, reaching down to pick up father's sword.

"NO", Christopher screamed.

Dracula turned towards the pile, reaching for his sword. The woman, Vasya, produced another dagger, seemingly from thin air. The men all turned towards the pile, raising their rifles and pulling their swords.

Anna sprinted out from behind the woodpile, running towards where her father lay. She scraped the sword from off the ground, barely getting the tip airborne. She pointed it at Dracula, and his face donned a look of shock. His hand stopped moving for his sword.

"Get away from him", Anna shouted. "I'll fight you if I must!"

Behind her, she could hear a pistol cocking. Christopher had picked up Captain Rain's gun. She didn't know if it even had shots in it. Christopher was better with numbers than her; he probably knew.

Dracula still wore that look on his face, that one of shock, and now, he took a step back, as it transitioned to a look of horror. As if a realization that had never occurred to him suddenly became his reality.

The lady behind him charged, yelling, "I'll dispose of the rodents, my lord!"

He threw an arm out, hitting her chest lightly, and stopping her in her tracks. Unlike when he had hit the knights, the strike didn't dent her armor. She stopped immediately, a blush rising up her face.

For what seemed like minutes, the whole congregation stood like that, neither side advancing on the other. Anna was beginning to sweat from the exertion of holding up the large sword, dripping to the ground with little splashes. She had no doubt that her younger brother Christopher was beginning to feel his muscles burn.

"No" Dracula finally said. "This is my burden, and I must carry it."

"You mean it is _our_ burden", one of the armored men shouted. "We have followed you for hundreds of years, and every time it is within your grasp to destroy the Valarious line, you hesitate! And when you hesitate, they destroy our army! And then we have to start all over again! I'm sick of it!"

The armored man stepped forward, his eyes fixed on Anna. He reached down to his sword, and began to draw. Suddenly, one of the daggers that the woman had been holding, the ones that seemed like mirages, impaled his neck. He toppled over, choking.

"Insolent, insubordinate creature", the woman, Vasya, yelled at him. "If you cannot respect your lord's wishes, you do not deserve to fight in his army!"

As the man writhed on the ground, Anna shifted her gaze back to Dracula. His own gaze had softened, into one that suggested he was sorry about the outcome of the day. He gazed down at Anna with that look, saying nothing.

"We have won the day", he finally said. He turned to Vasya, saying, "Inform our forces that we are to prepare for a trek into Turkey. We need fodder for our next conquest."

"Of course, my lord."

A raised hand from the woman, and the armored men retreated slowly, never turning their backs to the children, continuously keeping their weapons trained on them. When they cleared out, the woman turned around and walked out after them. Dracula was the last to leave, his turn hesitant.

He began slowly walking to the large hole in the wall, his feet making careful, heavy steps all the while. When he was close enough to the hole to put his hands on the wood, he turned around, sparing on final glance at Anna.

Memories flooded in, then, memories of a handsome man with brown hair and a small beard. The first of them were of him looking off into the distance, but the ones that came after were of him looking at her, talking with her, laughing with her, dancing with her, and of a single kiss on the embattlements of a castle. Of him pushing her away, gently, and telling her "no". Of him leaving. Of him not coming back.

Seras let go, and grasped at her own hand.

"That's", she began, unsure of how to finish, "terrible."

"Seras", Anna began, but she was interrupted by a shadow looming over the intrepid Police Girl.

"How much longer", Alucard asked.

Anna scowled.

"We're almost there, impatient creature."

"Poggers", he said in a voice that didn't sound convincing. "Gotta make a phone call real quick."

He reached into his jacket, and fished around. After a moment of fishing, he frowned, and removed his hand. He began patting down all of his other pockets.

"That's weird", he said. "I must have dropped my phone."

He turned to the Mercs, shouting, "Hey, retards! I just dropped my phone on the ground, bend over and look for it for me!"

He turned back to Seras, and grinned, saying, "You should get in on this, too!"

"Fuck's sake", Seras cursed under her breath, as she got up, and started looking under chairs.

"Hey, wait, I hear it buzzing, everyone shut the fuck up", Alucard shouted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Seras saw Anna reach into her pocket.

"Odd", Alucard said out loud. "It stopped really quickly. Must've been a telemarketer. Whenever they call my number, they get all scared and hang up early."

"I think it was coming from the front of the car", Anna told him, pointing to where the Mercs were still bumming around.

"You're right", Alucard said absentmindedly. "And those assholes up there sure do want to get fired. I think I'll go use my powers of persuasion to put a little pep in their step before they get peppered to death."

Alucard strode up to the front, and Seras followed, sparing a glance back at Anna as she went. As soon as she thought they might be out of earshot, Anna lifted Alucard's phone to her face, listening to the line. The Helsing girl was screeching at the other end.

"Alucard, listen! I've made a terrible mistake! I opened up Abraham's sealed letter, the one concerning the identity of the third party... Alucard, it's a t-"

Anna crushed the phone in her hand, set it gently on the floor, and kicked the shattered remains back over to where Alucard's seat had been.

She gently touched her father's sword, whispering, "Tonight, my family... everything changes."

...

Schrodinger had selected a nice perch. It had views of every angle of the warehouse, and, if need be, an open window nearby for him to slip into. He produced the handheld video camera, and opened up the screen on the side. The train slowed to a stop a mere fifty meters from the warehouse, and the occupants all piled out.

Schrodinger's finger hovered over the record, and as the last occupant exited, he said to himself, "And here... we... go!"

**Author's Notes:**

**I apologize that it took me as long as it did to get this out. Life has been crazy as of late, and I've been quite lazy to date. For the time being, I probably won't be able to get stuff out on time. Expect one to three weeks per chapter.**

**On top of that, I've already begun production on new material. If you're interested, it'll drop sometime when I remember to upload. More on that note, I've got a continuation series in mind for _after_ WWIII, and I've already got a head start on it. I won't post any of it until after I get all of this done.**

**Speaking of apologies, I recently learned that the .454 Casull is a real round, although the optics of trying to make an automatic handgun that would use it are insane. Alucard's hand would have to be as big as a dinner plate just to fit around the grip, and if you think the barrel's absurdly long in the anime, it would have to be about a half foot longer than THAT to seriously negate the recoil. I'll concede defeat, and make the necessary changes to all of the chapters, though that'll take a while.**

**Please, please PLEASE give me feedback about the story so far. I need to read the audience if I'm gonna know just how much longer this story will be.**


	19. Chapter 16: The Last Swing

_For all I have done, I regret none more than what I did to the Valarious family line. They had been so good to me, and in return, I slaughtered them, and barred them entrance to heaven. This is my new journal, a journal in which I detail all of my sins, and the worst of which I shall name first. Anna Valarious, I love you, and I wish I had not done to you what I did. I wish I could take it all back, but instead, I shall try and right that wrong by letting you swing the sword that severs you from me. It is what needs to be done. _

_-first Excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 16: The Last Swing

"Before we exit", Alucard said, pulling his phone out of his pocket as the train slowed to a crawl, "Pip, why don't you cue up a song for us?"

"Fuck me", Pip responded.

"I don't have that one", Alucard told him, tossing him the phone.

Pip caught it deftly, and once again hit "random".

"Well, actually, I do have that one", Alucard recanted.

_Listen up, you guys!_

"Pip, I can't believe I'm saying this", Alucard said, "but you're now my new song selector."

"What, now?"

"Let's kill some werewolves, people", Alucard said, replacing his glasses to his face, and drawing his .454's.

_1, 2, 1-2-3-4! _

As the guitars began to pick up, Alucard charged the warehouse, dark power coursing around him. He threw his shoulder into the huge warehouse door, and the thing shattered inwards, throwing sheet metal in all directions. It was enough to startle the six men inside, four of whom were playing cards around a folding table while the two others were talking near the far wall.

The men at the table all reached for firearms, and Alucard responded with gunfire of his own, keeping his groups close, but not doing any serious damage. His shots occasionally put cuts into their sides, and mostly put holes in the table, keeping their heads down and their attention on him. As they began to organize enough to return effective fire, the six others entered in behind them, and immediately began pouring fire on the men at the table. The men at the table were absolutely shredded by bullets, not even getting a chance to shoot back.

Alucard holstered his guns and continued his charge towards the last two, who had taken the time to make their transition.

The two werewolves looked hideous, as most werewolves tended to. They had the heads of snarling wolves, broad shoulders flaunting powerful muscles, long arms that ended in clawed hands, and legs that looked like someone did a poor job merging human anatomy with a dog's, the legs almost curving forwards, the feet elongated, and the toes ending in long claws. Neither of them looked how Alucard imagined the two in the police reports to be, both being covered in shaggy white fur.

They both charged him, swinging their claws upward. Alucard vaulted over one of them, putting his fist into the werewolf's spine, stumbling him.

"Donkey punch", Alucard called out.

The next werewolf swiped at him with his claws, and Alucard ducked, declaring, "Missed me!"

Alucard swung around, putting his heel into the side of the werewolf's head, returning his attention to the next one, who had begun to turn on Alucard, beginning a backhand. Alucard planted his foot into the side of the werewolf's knee, popping his leg out of alignment. As the werewolf stumbled, Alucard cocked his hand back and threw a fist into the werewolf's face, hitting him so hard that teeth flew straight out of his mouth.

"Talk shit, get hit", Alucard taunted, as the other werewolf advanced from behind, throwing his claws forward.

Alucard jumped up, flipping backwards over the advancing werewolf. The advancing werewolf, unable to stop in time, careened into the other, his claws piercing the other werewolf's chest. Alucard drifted to the ground behind them.

"Betrayed", he declared in a Halo announcer tone of voice. "Do you wish to kick your betrayer?"

Alucard twirled his body around, picking up momentum, and brought the heel of his foot down onto the top of the other werewolf's back. The large animal went flying, crashing to the ground several feet away.

The wounded wolf stood back up, blood leaking from both his chest, and his shattered mouth. He curled up his lips and spat out a clot of blood mixed with bits of tooth. He turned his lips up into a snarl, as Alucard's curled into a grin.

The creature lunged, throwing his claws into Alucard's face. Alucard stepped outside of his arm, wrapping his own arms around it, and flung himself up over the wolf's back, dislocating his shoulder, and rolling his bones out into gravel. The crunching it produced was like listening to a shooting range from a distance.

Alucard rolled into a fighting stance, and as the werewolf swung his other arm around, Alucard ducked, and threw another kick at his same damaged leg. The leg snapped straight in half, and the creature went tumbling. Alucard pounced on it, and twisted its neck all the way around, ripping its head straight off of its shoulders. Its body, filled with power unsuited for a corpse, began a thirty-minute-long process of disintegrating into red dust.

Apparently, the ambient sound of being at the firing range hadn't stopped with the arm breaking. Alucard turned his head to see the group with guns blazing, Anna included, her big revolvers crashing in her hands. The creature sprinted up the only flight of stairs in the place, leading up to what looked like an overseer's deck, complete with a manager's office. He threw open the door, and disappeared inside.

Alucard drew his .454's, and advanced on the stairs.

"I'll come with you", Anna declared, jogging to catch up with him.

"It'd probably be best if we split up anyhow", Alucard said almost absently. "Police Girl, stay down here with the Mercs. I'll follow Anna."

"That's a terrible idea, actually", Pip began.

Alucard cut him off quickly, saying, "We need to make sure there's no escape for him. He's wounded, but he's still ferocious. In a gay sort of way. Would one of you mind repeating my sentence, but in a gay voice?"

"He's goiy", Pest said in a gay voice that was incredibly deep, "and furocissss!"

"Beautiful", Alucard conceded.

As Alucard finished talking, he hit the first set of stairs, and his shoe made a wet squishing sound. Glancing down was enough to confirm that the creature had left behind a literally river of blood for him and Anna to follow. He wasn't surprised; the thing had been plugged with so many bullet holes, he was more surprised that he was even able to move at all, much less make it up the stairs.

As Anna sidled up next to him, he began his advance up the stairs. His feet struck metal as often as they struck blood, and from the sound of it, it seemed as though Anna was following a similar path. Alucard was a little bit surprised that she wasn't more hesitant to turn on the werewolves she had undoubtedly been taming and training for years. Had she really become so cold, so unfeeling, so heartless in all of this time? She almost seemed like a completely different woman, consumed as she was by her single-minded pursuit of Dracula.

He wanted the old Anna back, who was tough and fearsome, but also gentle and sweet. The old Anna, who would slaughter vampires by the dozens, but would stop fighting to drag wounded men from the field. Who was understanding in a way he had never known before, who understood him in a way he never had been.

As they neared the top of the stairs, Alucard made a last-minute decision.

He had to tell her the truth. This pursuit of hers had to end, one way, or another.

He kicked down the door and barged his way in, only to be greeted by a room that was darker than dark. While it was certainly true that vampires had night vision that was superior to regular humans, it was still possible for a room to be dark enough to be too dark to see.

The sound of feet pounding the ground threw him straight into combat mode. He raised both of his .454's, prepared to send a hail of devastating fire towards whatever was dumb enough to ambush him. He was only a moment from routing power to his eyes, which would have lit up the room for him, when it suddenly occurred to him that the footsteps were running _a__way_ from him.

Suddenly, the steps stopped. The sound of something being forcibly slid around scraped against his eardrums like nails on chalkboard, and suddenly, he realized what was happening. The realization hit him just as the light did.

The scene that struck him was one of brutal irony. To his left, Anna Valarious now stood on the outside of a window that had clearly been cut into the office as an afterthought. Behind her was the open sky, marred only slightly by the adjacent buildings.

Directly in front of him lay the quivering remains of the werewolf. He was back in human form, with blood pouring out of his naked torso, crawling towards what had to be a pile of almost fifty pounds of explosives, all of which was covered in small silver ball bearings, and dotted with small silver stakes here and there. He noticed, almost as an afterthought, that the werewolf in question had several needles embedded in his skin; adrenaline stimulants.

Alucard met Anna's gaze, holding her in place. He asked no questions, he needed no answers. But she provided them anyway.

"For my Gideon", she sneered, turning around and jumping off of the small ledge she was perched on.

So she knew. Or, at least, she _thought_ she knew.

There was no turning back.

Time to set the record straight.

Alucard noticed that the werewolf was crawling towards a detonator, cleverly hidden within the pile of explosives.

Alucard took three powerful steps, beating the werewolf to his own party.

And putting powerful machines back into motion.

...

Seras had never even considered where an ambush might have come from in a place like this. She was pretty much aware that Anna was planning to betray them after her discussion with Pip, but as she scanned the open area around them, all she saw was open space. All that meant when her rifle lowered was that what happened next was her own fault.

When Six Gun shouted, "Heads up!", she initially looked around, confused. Apparently, Pip followed suite. By the time the first shots started firing, she realized she was too late.

She looked up on impulse, and above them, werewolves were dropping from the sky. There were five of them, all of them dropping directly on top of them. Seras brought her rifle up, sparing the briefest glance at Pip. Pip still hadn't gotten the idea; his rifle was still down, and his head was on a swivel, searching for targets that weren't there.

If a werewolf landed on him, he would be ripped to shreds. But she only had enough time to get a single shot off. Working the bolt of this rifle would take too long to save the both of them.

She turned her rifle, and fired, putting a hole straight through the forehead of the werewolf that was falling down on Pip. His eyes went wide, and his jaw went slack, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

This got Pip's attention, and he turned his head up, shifting his stance. His foot slid on an empty shell casing, and his legs went out from under him. The werewolf fell on top of his prostrated form, his rifle flagging in Seras' direction, as she turned the barrel of her Gewehr towards the werewolf above her, getting the bayonet stuck in the creature's gut. As his force exerted itself over her, the rifle created a pseudo-spring-cushion, forcing the werewolf to extend his limbs downward to catch himself and avoid more pain.

The rifle's barrel twisted violently, making the end result look like how a child would draw a bolt of lightning, and the wood furnishing almost completely shattered. But the end result was that instead of the creature crushing her flat, she was instead bowled over. She quickly returned to her feet, charging the werewolf that had begun to stumble to his own feet. The bayonet had broken off inside of him, and it came up with him as he rose to his full height.

Seras threw a right cross, knocking the creature across his muzzle. Unlike when Alucard threw a punch, however, Seras didn't have nearly enough power behind it. The werewolf's head was turned slightly to the side, until it fought against the force of the blow, and met Seras' startled gaze with a wide, toothy snarl.

"N-n-n", Seras began, throwing up her hands in sign of surrender, "nice doggy!"

The werewolf lunged, his powerful jaws opening to reveal massive sharp teeth. Seras instinctively threw up her arms to guard herself, and the jaws snapped shut around her left wrist. The force of the bite alone instantly fractured her arm, the teeth biting so deeply through the muscle that they made divots in the bone.

Seras screamed in pain, trying to pull her arm away from the threat. She only succeeded in widening the holes in her flesh, her blood leaking into the horrid creature's mouth. Its jawline widened in a grotesque smile, and its tongue dragging across the wound, lapping up the red essence. His arms reached up towards her neck, his hands set to strangle her to death.

The sound of automatic fire going off beside her, and the werewolf unclenched its jaw, stumbling back to howl in pain. The sound snapped her mind into creative mode, and suddenly, the bayonet in the creature's side seemed like a viable weapon. As she lunged for it, she noticed that holes had been stitched into the creature's side, blood leaking out from them rapidly. As soon as she wrapped her hand around the severed hilt of the bayonet, the wounds became irrelevant.

She yanked the silver bayonet out of his side, and jammed it up under the creature's chin. It slashed through the creature's brain, and pierced its skull, poking out of the top of its head. Its eyes glazed over, and the creature fell over, slowly beginning to disintegrate into red dust.

Seras glanced back at Pip, who was still trapped under the lunking mass of disintegrating werewolf, dropped the FAL that he had been almost miraculously firing one-handed, and gave Seras a thumbs-up. A blush began creeping over her face, and she quickly gave a thumbs-up back to him.

Suddenly, the air was sucked straight out of her chest. Her hearing left her completely at once, replaced by a high-pitched buzzing. Her body was picked up, and slammed straight back into the ground. She felt like a fish out of water, unable to force her body to pull in air. A wave of darkness enveloped her vision, and she fell unconscious.

...

Anna ran fast and hard through the twisting, shadow-covered alleyways, keeping her sword clutched tight to her side. She had the layout of the place memorized; another turn, and she would be in a wide lane with only one exit. Rounding the corner put the alley in view, and she skidded to a stop. She turned around, and faced the opening, keeping the sword clenched tightly in her hand.

It was a terrible place to attack. No cover, no high ground, just a level playing field.

For once, a Valarious had chosen the ground to fight upon.

The fog dissipated around him, and he melted from the shadows. He had donned that ancient armor again, tinged black, with his cloak secured around his shoulders. Since he couldn't break his own restraint down to zero, he was using his own power to make his face look exactly how it used to, back when he was known as Dracula.

"You know", he said, "if you're going to leave a guy, you should finish him off first."

She glared back at him, her head held high.

He took a powerful, commanding step forward, meeting her gaze with inquisitive eyes that seemed to already know the answers they sought.

"When did you figure it out, Anna?"

"Well", she began, "I could say that it was during The Great War, when you conjured up that fog. Or when I first saw your sword, or even when you told me that you knew me before I had known myself. But, in reality, it was when Abraham first approached me with a proposition."

He already knew where this was going, but he played along anyway.

"What kind of proposition?"

"The kind that lets _me _decide your fate. I am the third party. And I knew who you were as soon as Abraham walked through my front door."

"What gave it away?"

"At first, it was pure intuition, but when I saw the name, I knew it for sure. I mean, seriously? You thought spelling your name backwards would be enough to fool me?"

"It fooled everyone else", he said, taking a heavy step forward, "but I should have known better. You're not just anyone, Anna. I can't deceive you forever."

That gave Anna pause.

"I have a confession to make", he told her, opening up his hand. "I _did_ kill Gideon."

Anna clenched the sword at her side tightly, but otherwise showed no sign of outward emotion.

"But", he continued, "I didn't do it when you think I did."

Anna narrowed her eyes.

"Did you notice anything different about Gideon, after he returned from his first trip to Germany?"

Anna took a shaky step back.

"No", she said in a strong voice.

"Don't lie to me, Anna", Dracula berated. "You never were a good liar."

"NO", she reaffirmed, taking another shaky step back.

"He never went to Germany, Anna", Dracula told her, taking a step forward, "he came to me."

"NO!"

"He sold you out in exchange for immortality."

"NO!"

"So I immortalized him", Dracula concluded, laying a hand over his midsection, "in my stomach."

"_NO!_"

Anna fell to her knees, beating the ground with a fist. Dracula watched the display, wondering how such a disloyal, sniveling worm could have held so much weight in her eyes. He wished he held the same weight.

"The truth is, Anna", he told her gently, "I was Gideon, after that trip. There was no one I trusted more to spy on you then myself."

"LIAR!"

"Why deny what you know to be true", Dracula asked. "Why else would Gideon do the things he did? How else would I have known the things I knew?"

He took a tentative step forward.

"Why else would I love you so?"

She turned an angry, tear-filled glare upwards.

"When I conceded my head, and asked you to take it from me, my only stipulation was that you would tell me you loved me, if only that I would die with a shred of happiness in my heart. You had told me it once before, though those words and that kiss were meant for another."

The realization of what he said sunk in to Anna, and she began to sob uncontrollably, wailing like a newborn child.

"But I wanted more than anything for those words to be mine. Because you, Anna, are the only person who, ever since those dreaded years in a Turkish prison, made me feel like I was meant to be something more than an empty shell. I had never once in my life felt loved before, not by my family, my subordinates, by no person on this earth had I ever received a shred of love. But you made me feel like I could do anything, be anything, and that feeling was so overwhelming that there were times that I burst into tears in your presence."

Her sobbing slowed, and she began to breath carefully, trying to regain her composure.

"I do not expect your love", he told her, "or your forgiveness. But you had to know the truth. I couldn't lie to you anymore. Because I love you, Anna."

Anna stood to her feet, wiping her eyes, and drew up her sword.

"The more you talk", she told him, "the more I want to tear out your vocal cords."

Dracula stood there, unwavering, his hair blowing in the slight breeze. He stared at the woman he loved, leveling a calculating gaze. Finally, his hand lowered, and he let out a sigh, his shoulders slumping with the motion, yet somehow maintaining its commanding aura.

"You don't get it", he told her. "Maybe I didn't explain it right. You've already won, Anna. You melted the coldest heart in history. Destroying me would be a mercy. And after you've given me that mercy, I want you to move on, and bring that mercy to others who are denied it."

Anna didn't quite seem to know how to respond to that.

"Treat this battle how your God would want you to treat it", he told her. "You've already won. Now, you just need to defeat me."

"You have been the centerpoint of my life for far too long", Anna told him, spitting on the ground. "Now, I can erase you from my life. I will kill you, here, and now!"

"And what makes you assume this time will be different from any other", Dracula asked flatly.

"Because this time", she explained, "I have weakened you... and now _I_have the advantage in stamina!"

"You just don't get it", Dracula concluded with a sigh, unlocking his sword from the sheath with a thumb. "Very well. I will not hold back this time."

"Neither will I", Anna said with a wicked sneer.

Dracula stood absolutely still in the moment. He inhaled slowly, drinking in the smells of the night. Nearby, a cat dug around in a trashcan, searching for some measly scraps of food. The smell of Cynocephalus blood was on the air, stronger than it had been previously. And nearby, a sad, scared, lonely boy expelled his rage.

Anna immediately attacked. Dracula dodged, continuously moving his body to avoid the sharp blessed blade, ducking, dodging, and weaving like a dance he had been performing all of his life. A slash came in from the outside, and he saw his opening, using his thumb to push his sword out of the sheath, and exposing the blade far enough to block the strike.

He yanked the blade the rest of the way out, shielding himself from Anna's strikes, blocking, and hitting the occasional parry, allowing her to do the attacking. The sounds of their swords clashing might have been mistaken for an entire Renaissance recreation battle, with how often they struck each other. The sparks that flew from their swords could have caught an entire forest on fire.

Their hands moved expertly, quickly arranging themselves in whatever order they were needed in, like a painter knowing the strokes before his brush ever made them. For Dracula, his hands swapped from left to right and back again, and Anna deflected deftly with her two-handed grip, unfazed by the unorthodox.

Dracula batted away her sword, and spun, gaining an incredible amount of energy. Anna brought her sword up just in time for the blow to knock it straight out of her hands. The sword clattered to the ground, sliding farther and farther from them. Dracula spun back into an attack position just as Anna lunged for her sword. She stumbled, and overextended herself. She finally got her hand around the handle, and stood up just in time to witness the power growing around Dracula.

"Impossible", Anna breathed. "I had solved your enigma! You shouldn't be able to draw more power! You should be exhausted!"

The power launched itself at her, dark spikes set to impale themselves into her. She turned her head, bringing the sword in front of her. The sword began to glow blue, and suddenly, it exuded a blinding light. When the light dissipated, the dark power had vanished, and Anna was still standing.

"The blessing has not worn off of your blade, I see", Dracula told her.

"You've... encountered this before?"

"Why do you think I didn't use my power against your father?"

Anna sneered, gripping the sword, but it was no longer her advantage. Dracula flung himself towards a wall, and ran across it to where Anna stood, launching himself towards her. He struck her hard enough for her sword to almost be reverberated out of her hand. She brought her sword up in time to deflect another bone-jarring strike, as Dracula righted himself and swung his sword from the outside. He spun around so fast that the human eye would have missed it if it were to blink. The strike was hard enough to send Anna scraping across the ground, the soles of her boots smoking from the friction. Dracula readied another strike, a jab aimed at her chest. She brought her sword up just in time for the tips to strike against each other. Both swords, the hardened steel that they were, bent on the impact, and righted themselves as light and dark pushed against each other, sending both Anna and Dracula flying.

Dracula, the cat he was, landed on his feet. Anna landed on her knees, quickly jumping to her feet. Dracula raised his sword in an overhead grip, wrapping his left arm around his body, his sword appearing like a scorpion's stinger prepared to strike, and began pacing. Anna righted similarly, and began pacing as well. The two circled around each other, each never taking their eyes off of the other, always searching for an opening. Eventually, the two stopped pacing, and stood locked in place.

Anna gave a barbaric yell, and charged forward, and Dracula quietly followed suit. They locked swords, spinning them around the other, trying to find an opening, weaving with their feet, unable to move back or forth.

With a final motion, the sound of metal clanking on the ground filled the night.

Dracula, now unarmed, drew in a deep breath, as Anna righted herself for a thrust.

"You've defeated me", he told her. "Now what?"

"Now you die", she told him, as she thrust the sword forward.

He extended his hands, weaving his armored fingers in between each other, catching the blessed blade in the fold. Dark energy surrounded all of his fingers, and continuously throbbed about the now captive blade.

"That's not what I meant", he told her, as he squeezed the fulcrum, shattering the blade into a shower of shards.

Anna stared at the hilt of her sword. All that remained of the huge blade was a nine-inch protrusion that ended in a wicked point.

It seemed that at that moment, the life drained from her body. Her arms went slack. The remainder of the sword fell from her hand. She dropped to her knees, her head lolling forward. Tears fell freely from her eyes, but she made no sound.

"You have defeated me", Dracula repeated. "Now, what are you going to do with your life?"

"I failed", she said quietly.

"No", Dracula corrected. "You defeated me. Now, what do you plan to do next?"

"I should die."

"Why?"

"I failed."

"We could verbally run around each other all day", Dracula said with a sigh, "but we both know that will accomplish nothing. Anna, is there a life after Dracula for you?"

"Why should there be?"

"Because if there isn't, I win", he told her, opening his palms. "I don't want to win. I want you to live like your life means something to you."

"Life is meaningless now."

Dracula let his arms fall to his sides.

"Anna", he began, "there was a time when you had plans for your future. Ambitions beyond imagine. You could have rid Romania of all of its dark corners. You could have been the next Vlad Tepes III."

"But you took that from me", she said plainly.

"Yes", he admitted, "I did. And now I want to give you something."

He dropped to his knees in front of her.

"Anna", Dracula said gently, "I want to release you from me. But before I can, you must first release yourself from me. You must find more purpose to your life than my destruction... because there is more to life than me."

"How can you say that", she suddenly began screaming, "when you have been the object of my existence for nearly two hundred years?!"

For a moment, Dracula was silent.

"When I went to war with the Turks, I had only two things", he began, raising two armored fingers, "my faith, and my hatred. When the King of Hungary turned me against my will, and left me in that cage, I lost my faith. All that remained was my hatred. And that hatred led to the creation of you."

He let his hand fall to his side.

"You see, Anna, I have been your opposing force since the beginning. I slaughtered your countrymen, your family, and the man you believed loved you. But now, I want no part in your life. I love you, Anna, and now, I'm letting you go. Now, you have no opposing force. All you need do is spread your arms and take flight."

Anna was silent for a moment, staring at the damaged sword lying on the ground. The tears ceased to fall from her face, and the creases softened. She gently reached down, grabbing the sword by the handle, and lifting what remained of it up, standing with it.

"Then", she began, her voice at first shaky, then suddenly much more confident, "I no longer want you in my life. I want to move on. I want to help the world to the best of my ability, and I cannot do it while you weigh on my heart."

"There you are", Dracula said with a smirk, and he quickly rose to his feet, and thrust out his arm, forcing Anna to slide back through the alleyway.

Dracula turned to his sword, and whispered in an ancient and forgotten language, "Curse Break: Valarious family line. Unbind from Dracula."

The symbols on the sword began glowing, and the sword began vibrating. Anna charged him, raising the shard like a dagger.

"Yes, Anna, YES", Dracula said, charging towards her as well. "Spread your wings, angel! Take flight once more!"

Anna leapt into the air, and Dracula followed suit. Their swords glistened in the moonlight, either aimed at the other. Their ascent was accented only by the air whipping about them.

A wet crunch filled the night air.

...

Seras woke up quite suddenly, her head feeling as though it was trying to tear itself open. She had had the wind knocked out of her before, but that explosion had felt like the hand of God forcing her to the ground. She wondered if vampires could get brain damage from oxygen deprivation suddenly, and then just as quickly dismissed the thought with the general logic that if she was able to have such thoughts, then brain damage was the least of her concerns.

Well, at least, her own brain damage, that was.

She tried to stand, finding it nearly impossible on her first try. A second wind brought her to her feet quickly and without much trouble. She did her best to not wobble, and took a few dainty steps, seeing if her feet would still cooperate. Satisfied with their performance, she turned to the other mercenaries.

Pip was still stuck under his werewolf, mumbling something in French. It had decayed significantly since she had last seen it, and she absentmindedly wondered how long she had been out. Turning around, she found Six Gun actively trying to remove the werewolf from himself with his bare hands and leverage. Next to him, Pest was moaning, and doing his best not to move. Next to him, Cali-Swag had been impaled on the very arrows he had shot into the creature. He was losing a significant amount of blood from several punctures. He softly moaned and tried not to move as well.

Seras knew right away that removing these large creatures from these small men was going to be a two-vampire job, so she tried to concentrate on her Master using her vampire-mind-talk. She was still new to the concept of telepathy, so finding the right brainwaves or whatever was still rather challenging. She squeezed her eyes shut, scrunched up her face, and put her fingers on her temples.

_Master, hey, Master_, Seras said into the void, _I need some help here, where are you? _

_Seras_, someone thought back, _I'm dying_.

That didn't sound like her Master; it sounded like a man with a powerful, deep, Romanian accent.

_Find me quickly_, he continued. _I don't have long_.

When he said to find him, it suddenly became clear where he was, as if her eyes had been opened to him. She decided that since he was dying, she would need more medical expertise than what she had at her disposal. She turned towards Six Gun, trying to lift the large werewolf body off of himself, and wondered how good typical mercenary medical training was.

She rushed over, and while he was lifting, thrust her shoulder into the large werewolf, giving Six Gun the leverage he needed to move it off of himself. He scooted out from underneath, and immediately rushed over to where Pip was laying.

"Wait", Seras told him. As he ignored her, she continued, "Alucard is in trouble! He might need medical attention."

"Then help me grab Boss", he told her. "He's patched me up so many times I've lost count."

That sounded like a bright idea to Seras, so she grabbed the legs of the werewolf stuck on Pip, and dragged it off of him. Pip groaned as the burden was lifted from him.

"Have I died and gone to Heaven", he asked Seras. "I didn't know all of the angels would be British Police girls."

"Mr. Bernadotte", Seras said quickly, "I need your help! I think Alucard is in some kind of trouble! He might need medical attention!"

"Very well", Pip said, leaning up. "On one condition."

"That being", Seras asked inquisitively.

"I would like to make a pact with you, _Mon Chere_. Since we seem to be such a good duo, what say we continue killing every filthy werewolf that comes across our path?"

"Sure, whatever, let's just-"

"Come now, _Mon Chere_, don't just tell me yes without putting any _meaning_ behind it! I don't want to make a commitment only for you to run off on me the next morning. I'm not that type of guy, and I don't think you're that type of girl, _non_?"

Seras sighed, and knelt down next to Pip.

"Mr. Bernadotte", she said, "from this point on, we're gonna kill every bloody werewolf we see."

Pip grinned.

"I accept. Now, before we worry about your father-"

"_FATHER_", Seras practically screeched.

"Ah, Pest, you imbecile", Pip said with a smile, enunciating the insult, "you tell me all of these great things you find on the internet, but you can't tell if two people are related?"

"Sorry, sir", Pest responded, "I promise not to use the computer so much... not that the nurses are gonna allow a paraplegic to do shit like that anyway."

"Oh, Pest", Pip responded with a grin, "if you have spunk enough to bitch, you have spunk enough to heal your spine."

"Mr. Bernadotte-"

"_Mon Chere_", he interrupted, concern suddenly creasing his face, "let me look at that wound on your arm."

"Uh, why?"

Seras turned her wrist up to herself, and saw that her bite marks weren't healing. In fact, the skin around them seemed to be taking on a black hue. She wasn't a doctor, but she imagined it was the kind of wound that used to get your arm amputated.

She untucked her sleeve, and rolled it down over her arm.

"One thing at a time, Mr. Bernadotte. Let's go see if we can save Alucard first."

He gave a questioning glance at the sleeve, but responded, "Then let us not waste another second!"

Six Gun hoisted him up by his arm, and the three of them immediately began running, the two Mercs following Seras, and Seras following her intuition. She twisted and turned through the back alleys, following what seemed to her an invisible string connecting her to her Master.

They finally came to a big alley, almost a street. The street wasn't very well lit, but there was a scene underneath a single streetlight that caught her attention. Anna Valarious was knelt over a prone figure, with what appeared to be a shattered version of her sword sticking out of his chest. The man in question was clothed in red, with long, curly brown hair reaching past his shoulders, a long brown mustache crossing his face to stop at the end of his cheek bones, and the most intelligent brown eyes she had ever seen.

"Thank you, Anna", he told her in a thick, deep, rich Romanian accent. "You have finally set me free."

"But", Anna began, "how will I know if I've set my family free?"

The man pointed to the sky.

"As the LORD is your witness", he told her, "He is also your Savior. See?"

She looked up at the sky. Seras followed her gaze, and was greeted with a sight she couldn't quite explain. It was like the sun coming up in the middle of the night, but under a heavy cloud cover. In the clouds were faces of men, who were smiling back at Anna. She cupped her hands over her mouth, and tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"They are free, Anna", the man told her, "and now, so are you."

He put a hand on her shoulder, shoving her away.

"GO", he told her, "go live your life, for God's sake!"

She stood, her eyes still cast down upon him. Slowly, a smile creased her face; a genuine smile, one that he hadn't seen since the mid eighteen hundreds.

"I will", she responded solemnly, "Vlad."

She bent down, and picked up what appeared to be Alucard's sword.

"I'm going to need this", she told him, "now that mine is broken."

"Take it", he urged her. "Take it and go. Remember me every time you swing it."

"I will", she told him softly.

With that, she turned, and raced off into the fading light of the streetlamps.

Six Gun drew his sidearm, yelling, "Yeah, ya better run, ya asshat!"

"Come now, my Texan friend", Pip told him, holding out an arm, "let's let this man have his moment, eh? While he kicks the bucket, we should go find-"

"Alucard", Seras said questioningly.

The man turned his head to look at Seras.

"Yes", he responded, "and no."

He turned his head back around to look up at the sky, and observe the faces that were disappearing with the light.

"This was me a long time ago", he told her. "A time when it was me against the world. Before I met Anna, or Abraham", he turned to look at her again, his eyes twinkling as he said, "or you."

All at once, it was like the light left his eyes. They glazed over, as he rested his head on the concrete. Seras dashed over to him, grabbing his head, softly denying what was happening.

"No, no, no", she said gently, yet urgently. "Please don't die! I-I can't be alone again!"

Pip removed his hat, setting it gently on his chest, a look of pity on his face.

"Welp", Six Gun butted in, "guess that's the end of my paycheck."

He walked over to the man's corpse, and put his hand on the handle of the sword, saying, "Might as well pawn off this heavy-lookin' thing."

As he drew the sword up from his chest, Alucard, face and all, leaned up, gasping for air.

"MOTHERFUCKER", he screamed. "I_cannot_hold my breath for very long!"

"Master?!"

"Sup, bitch?"

"I-I thought you were dead!"

"Well, duh, I'm a vampire."

He stood up as Seras tried to correct herself, and walked straight over to Six Gun, and pulled the sword handle out of his hand, declaring, "Yoink!"

He swung the sword about, mumbling, "Now, a little bit of power here, a touch of power there, and..."

The pieces of the sword began levitating, and slowly began to float towards the big sword, piecing themselves together into a large, sharp, blessed blade. Once they were all done, it was like the sword was brand-new again. Alucard gave it a few practice swings, and a grin crossed his face.

"With these upgrades", he said in a much more British voice, "they'll never stand a chance!"

He opened up the rift at his hip, and inserted the sword into it. The blade smoked as it passed through, but it went in without much more resistance.

When it had retreated all the way into the rift, and the rift had closed behind him, Alucard turned to Seras.

"So, Police Girl", he said with a grin, "did you need something?"

Seras was stunned. She knew she needed to ask for his help for _something__,_ but she didn't quite know_what_. Instead, she decided to ask the first thing that came to mind.

"How are you not dead?"

"Easy", Alucard said, reaching into his duster.

He withdrew a Holy Bible that had a large, vertical cut in its center.

"My bibble got diddled", he explained. "Which is fine by me, I guess. This version was kinda boring anyway. They get less exciting with each new edition."

He tossed the holy book over his shoulder, his grin remaining even as it passed through some poor sap's window, waking up his cat. As the poor sap raged in a muffled, sleepless stupor, a puzzled look grew upon Alucard's face.

"Police Girl", he asked, "weren't there supposed to be two more of you?"

Finally, the question that she was supposed to ask snapped into her mind.

"T-two men are wounded", she told him. "I need your help if we're going to be able to get them out of here!"

"No problamo, amigo", he said with a grin, beginning a confident walk towards the warehouse.

Seras followed behind, along with Pip and Six Gun, wondering why she bothered to waste her worry on her Master.

...

"Well, you should be all patched up, Cali-Swag", Pip said, wrapping up the last of his puncture wounds. "But try and remember next time; the goal is for you to do the penetrating, not the other way around!"

"Yeah, yeah", Cali-Swag said, as Pip pulled him up to his feet. "Tell you what? Next time, if I need some penetration advice, I'll ask Pest instead! He's got the fewest reverse-penetrations on record!"

"Wish I could laugh with you boys", Six Gun said soberly, "but I'm pretty sure Pest broke his damn neck."

"It's all that extra I've been puttin' in", Pest told him with a soft chuckle.

"Maybe if you weren't always leaning into that damn computer", Pip told him, "you'd have a nice, healthy spine, like moi!"

"Maybe", Pest said, still facing away from him, "but I'd probably be lacking in the ocular department! Because, you know, it helps to _duck_ sometimes."

"Oh, Pest, always avoiding the bullets. Everyone knows they can't hurt you if you don't fear them!"

"Tell that to your missing eye!"

"Touche. But first, you might want to think about your missing neck!"

"Pest", Six Gun butted in, "we're gonna have to leave you behind, bud. We'll call you an ambulance, but if I try to move ya, you're gonna severe your spinal cord."

"Don't bother", Alucard said, withdrawing his pistols, and tossing them onto the ground. "They're already here."

"Who?"

Suddenly, the whole exit was filled with police cars. None of them had their sirens on, but their lights were flashing and blinding. Seras blinked as several police officers crossed the threshold into the warehouse, their weapons aimed at the standing occupants. By now, the remaining werewolves had mostly disintegrated, leaving little behind in the form of evidence of the supernatural, but the bodies of the men who hadn't change still remained whole.

They were, indeed, in a bad situation.

The Mercs immediately threw down their weapons, surrendering without a fuss or fight... all except Pest, who couldn't move his arms. Seras, slowly, began raising her trembling hands, tears filling her eyes. Her worst nightmares had finally come to fruition.

Police Girl was going to jail.

...

Schrodinger looked down on the broken mess of a werewolf, wondering how hard it was going to be to clean his knife of all that fur, among other things. He slowly bent down, plucking the knife from the creature's neck. Getting it up into the moonlight revealed that it very much so did, indeed, look like a lost cause without some proper oil and water.

He slowly slid it into its sheath, wondering if he would be treated much the same upon his return to the Millennium airship.

Thinking of which, he turned towards the video camera that lay on the ground by his feet. He gently picked it up, examining it carefully. It looked mostly intact, but the small folding viewing screen on the side had been cracked, and broken glass spider-webbed as if to give him a foreboding omen.

He swallowed hard, and cradled the camera in his arms.

Time to face the music.


	20. Chapter 17: A Chance Bromance

_Part of why I hate working in teams is that you're really only as strong as your weakest link. If I'm alone, a shootout with police is no problem whatsoever; sanitation workers clean a few mangled bodies off the streets, and I get to run away mwa-ha-ha-ing. Throw a couple of extra humans into the mix, though, and you get a no-win situation. No point in wasting meat-shields; might as well spend the night in jail._

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals_

Chapter 17: A Chance Bromance

Alucard hated jail. The bars on the doors gave him sceevy vibes, the accommodations were shit, and he always seemed to lose his stuff here. Currently, he was down to his white button-down shirt and black dress pants. They had replaced his shoes with slippers, and had even taken his glasses from him. Fortunately, they had allowed him to keep his gloves, which would have been to their detriment if they had removed them anyway.

Seras was under the impression, as was most of the rest of the world, that Alucard had been "enhanced" by Abraham Van Helsing, who had supposedly performed black magic spells on him to make him stronger, and then forced him to wear restraining gloves and belts. That was simply untrue, a lie spread by the Vatican to discourage other hunters from working with Helsing. The truth was, he had done it all to himself.

It had been during the terrible Retreat of Van that Alucard had finally unlocked his full potential, when the Turks had led him to believe that Gabriel had fallen in battle... that he had lost his second and last friend. The carnage brought a smell down from the mountains that the retreating Armenians had described as nothing less than "Hellish", and the armies he had left shattered that day had been such a horrific sight that they had made even Gabriel collapse and weep.

Abraham had been right in stating initially that he had been "a man amongst monsters" throughout his life. It was what made him stand out from other similar armies; whereas they had embraced their animalistic virtues and embodied them, making them lower than men, and by extension, easy targets for experienced hunters, he personally had conducted himself with an air of dignity and nobility that gave him and his army the upper hand in combat against both men and monsters.

But at the Retreat of Van, when he believed that he had lost everything, he had let it all out in a violent torrent. He had embraced the monster, and had let him rampage. And the end result had horrified even him.

He convinced Gabriel after the war that it was necessary for the good of mankind that he not be able to freely use such power. Afterwards, Alucard had commissioned the gloves and restraining belts, and had put them on himself. Now, they seemed a hindrance and a nuisance at times, but they were a reminder that he wasn't defending the world so much as himself whenever he fought against them.

"Hey, Boss", Six Gun said to Pip, "do ya think that if I'd stabbed myself a few times, they'd've let me go to the hospital instead of jail, too?"

His company wasn't all that good, either. The two dipshits he had to share a cell with were constantly telling each other bad jokes to pass the time. He had heard Pip use the word "soap" almost thirty times in the past fifteen minutes, and each iteration had been worse than the last.

"Pip, I swear to god", Alucard butted in, "if you say, 'why don't you just let them stab you in here', and then something along the lines of, 'just don't drop the soap first', I will redecorate this cell with a fresh red paint made from your desiccated corpse."

"_Merde_", Pip said, "I am becoming predictable."

"You think I'm kidding? Keep it up, motherfucker."

A sound caught his ear, one that he had heard in the past. It was the sound of a Scotsman, screaming both obscenities and blessings, generally in that order. Alucard's grin widened as the sound grew closer.

"Speaking of motherfuckers", Alucard said, as Alexander Anderson, stripped down to his clerical robes, came around the corner, being escorted by police officers.

"ALUCARD", Anderson yelled upon sighting him.

"ANDERSON", Alucard reciprocated, "I should have known we'd meet again!"

"Aye", Anderson continued at the noise level of a shout, "too bad we can never meet under better circumstances after what you did!"

"What_ I_ did", Alucard countered. "Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror? You're the reason I can't sleep at night!"

The two cops escorting Anderson looked at each other. Alucard knew that look. A prisoner death report was much easier to fill out than a prisoner release form. They keyed open Alucard's cell, and roughly shoved Anderson in, followed by Scottish obscenities. When the door closed behind them, the two men began glaring at each other.

As soon as the cops left, the glares lightened to grins.

"Anderson, old pal! How have you been?"

"Well, considerin' Lent's over, much better! I always end up givin' up stuff I need in the long run!"

"I hear ya, I hear ya! Speaking of which, what in the world are you in here for?"

"Well, ya see, I was tryna' bless a police officer!"

"And they arrested you for that?"

"I wasn't finished! Anyway, we gets ta talkin', and next thing I know, I had punched him seventeen times in the face on accident!"

"...'accident'?"

"Apparently, they said the whole time that it was happenin', I was screamin', 'WHY... DIDN'T... THEY... MAKE... STEPHEN... A... SAINT?!'"

"Stephen the Great?"

"Yeah."

"He was my cousin."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, and he _is_ a saint in the Orthodox Church."

"When was this a thing?!"

"1992."

"And no one bothered to tell me?"

"Well, top-down communication is better in the Orthodox Church than it is from the Vatican. And Orthodoxy still believes in pigeon as a primary form of communication."

"You sure do know a lot about Orthodox Christianity."

"Well, that's what I was oh so long ago, an Orthodox Christian. I check in every once in a while for giggles."

"And you don't burst into flames every time you walk into a church?"

"Apparently God wants me to suffer through those awful sermons instead. Speaking of which, you still planning on doing your lame ass sermon on Sunday?"

"Long as they don't kick me out before then."

"Oh, good. I can't wait to watch you make 500 people squirm in the pews... you know, if your sermon is anything like our little talks. Remember the Jews?"

"How can I forget them when they faked their death rates in both the Great War AND the Holocaust just to get oppression points towards having their own country?"

"It's hard to disagree with you after all of the shit they pulled on me. Have you ever had the Jews run a misinformation campaign against you out of petty spite? It changes your perspective on them real quick."

"Shite, have you read the Bible? It's a big laundry list of all the fooked up shite the Jews did."

"Indeed; it's a good source to cite when you're deciding whether or not you want to trust any Jewish store owners. Or politicians, for that matter. Or Samarians. Or Canaanites. Or Ishmaelites."

"Frankly, it's a good reason for judging everyone based on stereotypes."

Pip and Six Gun looked at each other with a mixture of confusion, disgust, and terror in each other's eyes.

"I want out of this cell", Pip said.

Alucard discretely pumped his fist. He and Anderson could read each other so well, that when he wanted to make an entire room uncomfortable, Anderson was able to double him up with little to no effort. It was a great feeling.

"Speakin' of which", Anderson piped up, "wouldya mind bustin' me outta here?"

"Why? The Vatican doesn't shield its own anymore?"

"Hey, now. No, when I called them up, they said I should, and I quote, 'sleep it off'."

"Geez, some brotherhood. Well, I was saving my one call for a good prank call on the President, but sure, why not? GUARD, HEY, GUARD!"

One of the guards came walking over, shouting, "Yeah, yeah, what?"

"I'd like my phone call."

"Sorry, line's down", the guard said with a smirk and a shrug.

Alucard approached the bars, extending his arm and index finger.

"I don't think you heard me", he told the guard, "I SAID-"

The guard's eyes turned red, as Alucard told him in a deep voice, "You want to get me a phone."

"I... want to get you a phone...", the guard repeated uncertainly.

"And you want to sneak me an extra pudding cup while you're at it."

"And I want to sneak you an extra pudding cup while I'm at it", the guard said, much more confidently this time.

"And you want to stop beating your wife so hard. Seriously, her cooking can't be that bad."

Alucard and Anderson giggled, as the guard began responding, "You're right... it's not that bad when she replaces butter with margarine."

Alucard and Anderson shared a glance, and Alucard recanted, "Never mind. Beat her harder."

...

"Pudding is unironically the best part of jail", Anderson attested, as he finished off the smuggled pudding cup. "I sure hope they never get rid of it for a meme."

"No worries", Alucard told him, "just like with the Hagia Sophia, no one will ever defile the sacred places. Speaking of which, would you goatfuckers mind keeping it down", Alucard shouted to Pip and Six Gun, "I'm making a phone call to your boss."

Alucard lifted the stolen flip phone, and began dialing. As soon as the phone began ringing, it was pushed up to his ear. He was greeted with the sound of Integra screaming "FUCK OFF", and then slamming the phone down.

Alucard redialed, and held the phone up to his ear once more. This time, Integra picked it up, not saying anything.

"How's my little slutbag doing?"

"Alucard", Integra half yelped in surprise. "Where are you?!"

"Jail", Alucard told her. "I'm still not sure where, though."

"Virginia", Integra told him.

"How the fuck do you know?"

"A news clip just flashed across my computer... Alucard, why the hell are you throwing up gang signs in your mugshot?"

"They got tired of retaking the picture."

For a moment, Integra was silent.

"Alucard", she began, "I'm so sorry."

"What for?"

"This whole trip... I just wanted you to make things right with her."

It was Alucard's turn to be silent.

"I forgive you", he finally said.

The silence persisted.

"How is she", Integra asked.

"Alive", Alucard told her, "and whole again."

"For how long?"

"That's not up to me", he said, clenching his fist. "I did what had to be done, and now she's whole again. That's what's important."

"I'm... glad to see everything worked exactly the way I planned."

"You would say that."

"You need out of jail?"

"Yes. Would you mind busting Anderson out, too?"

"Alexander Anderson? What the bloody hell is he doing in jail?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Very well... then what if I said... please?"

"No."

"I see... what if I said... pretty please?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I will, but first, I propose a counter argument... pretty please, with sugar on top?"

"Ugh, fine!"

"Thank you!"

"Fuck you!"

"After the mission. Toodles!"

Alucard hung up the phone, turning his attention to his cellmates.

"We'll be out of here in an hour. Until then, no soap jokes."

...

Pip decided that the hour he had spent in the cell with Alucard and Anderson had to have been punishment for some of the heinous crimes he had committed in the Middle East. Listening to the two of them talk was quite interesting, given their collective knowledge, but more like in the same way that it was interesting listening to an old Hitler speech. He didn't understand half of it, and the half he could understand made him want to poke out his other eye. What was worse was that the two of them kept making jokes throughout it all. Most of them flew straight over his head, and the ones he could understand were so layered that listening to each one was like eating a whole cake in one sitting.

So when the guard rolled up to the gate, and opened it up to let them out, Pip and Six Gun were the first to leave, with Alucard and Anderson laughing in sync behind them on their way out. Fortunately, some of his good karma was repaid by the people at the returns desk giving back him and Six Gun's equipment without anything missing, with grumbles about "bad taste" pushing him merrily towards the door.

Anderson was lucky that the Vatican had absolutely no flow, and he also reclaimed his trench coat. However, Alucard, after receiving his guns, having exceptional taste, was not lauded the return of his clothing. As the receptionist made up some bullshit about how things may have been switched around, and the clothing accidentally shipped to another jail, Alucard could have sworn he saw one of the cops in the background trying on his red duster.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need your badge numbers", he told the receptionist.

With a great sigh, the receptionist clarified, "Mine and who elses'?"

"Everyone who works here. Say, don't badge numbers also tell you home addresses?"

"Any particular reason why you would need that information?"

"No particular reason whatsoever... unless you, say, own a prized racing horse..."

As the intrepid group of weirdos waited outside for Seras, Alucard mentioned to Pip in passing, "No one got bit, did they?"

Immediately, Pip tensed, and Alucard noticed. He narrowed his red eyes, looking Pip up and down.

"Well", Pip said, thinking quickly, "Cali had his wound bled into."

"Yeah, as long as he's alive that won't do anything, he should be fine", Alucard told him.

"Then no."

"Excellent. Better you be shot dead now then go through the process of being turned into a werewolf."

Right around then, Seras exited the jail. All eyes turned towards her, most of them in order to ogle her. She looked tired, and not as sure-footed the as the last time Alucard had seen her. He noted that her eyes looked a bit puffy. She had probably had a long few hours in jail.

Seras frowned, and turned to Alucard, asking, "Master, do we have a car, or taxi, or anything to get us to an airport, so we can go home?"

"I've got a Firebird in lockup", Anderson told them. "It should make the route back to Philly a few hour trip, easily."

"Fuck, that train was slow", Alucard berated. He then perked up, asking Anderson, "A fucking Firebird?"

"Aye", Anderson told him with a grin. "The Vatican is a pathway to many opportunities, some of which involve muscle cars!"

"Oh, good, I want to go home", Seras said wearily.

Suddenly, Seras stumbled, falling into her Master's side. Alucard caught her deftly, one hand instinctively grabbing her sleeved arm. Alucard squeezed it a bit, feeling some swelling. In a moment of almost blinding panic, he yanked up her sleeve, revealing bite marks... and black tracks running from each wound up her arm.

"Mother", Alucard breathed in a harsh whisper.

He almost couldn't bring himself to finish his expletive, but after a moment, he nearly screamed, "FUCKER!"

The racking of a slide beside him went unobserved, as he thought about how much time Seras might have before the transformation... or just straight-up death... occurred. The feeling of cold steel on the side of his head, however, did not go unobserved. Alucard slowly rolled his head to see Pip, holding his 1911 up to Alucard's head.

"What... in the fuck", Alucard said slowly, "could you possibly hope to accomplish here?"

"Let her go."

"So that she can faceplant?"

"Let... her... go."

"You know what? You've been on my nerves this entire trip. Alright, smartass, I'll let her go, but you've gotta take care of her. So, genius, what's step one here?"

Pip glared at Alucard, and Alucard glared right back. Ever so slowly, Pip lowered his 1911. he maintained his glare, but the point was made.

"Anderson" Alucard said, not taking his eyes off of Pip, "would you mind taking us back to your church-"

"Allow me to just stop ya right there", Anderson said, holding up a hand. "What you're going to tell me is, "Can we go back to your church, and perform a purification ritual, on the oof chance that it'd work, and I mean oof because there's absolutely no chance of that working. Which leaves me with a choice; I can either take ya back to the safehouse I have so graciously provided, which even comes with free garlic, or, I can forsake mah sworn duty to uphold the purity of the sacred places by allowing a vampiric heathen and his clumsy harlot inside a bloody sanctuary, and then waste copious amounts of holy water saving an unlife that I frankly cannot find it within me to care any less about, even though it'd much as likely kill 'er, thereby makin' the entire trip and ritual a complete fookin' waste of me precious time?"

Anderson put a hand up to his chin, stroking the stubble on it, which had already begun filling in after only a few hours.

"Hmm, let me think about it", he said, continuing to stroke his beard. "No."

"Then how about a favor?"

"What's that now", Anderson asked, holding an ear up to his head.

"A favor, in exchange for the life of my Apprentice."

Anderson once again returned the hand to his stubble, stroking it thoughtfully.

"Can't you just, ya know", Six Gun piped up, "suck all the venom out? I mean, you are pretty good at suckin'."

Alucard turned a gaze towards Six Gun, a deadpanned expression adorning it. Slowly, his lips crawled up into a terrible grin. A chuckle escaped his chest.

"Yes", Alucard told him, "and no. If I do that right now, the poison is far enough up her arm that even _I_ couldn't get it without a good long suck, and that would just put her life in even more danger. She'd need that stuff within a few inches of the wound for me to get a proper suck on."

"Alright, fine", Anderson said with a grunt. "I accept your favor in exchange for this service."

"Very well", Alucard told him, "but I don't do butt stuff."

"You'll be lucky if butt stuff's all we do", Anderson told him with a grin. "Let's all climb our happy arses into me car and hit the road as fast as we can, bound for Philly. St. Peter's Church of Philadelphia, here we come!"

As they made a beeline for the impound, with Seras tucked gently into Alucard's side, Pip asked him, "Why are you helping her?"

Alucard glanced back at him.

"Now, Pip", he began, "I know you're pretty fucking stupid, but do you honestly think that I would waste my one chance at a happy life to save some random Big Titty Police Girl if I didn't think she was worth it, much less let her die of a werewolf bite after pouring so much effort into her?"

The group jogged on in silence, getting closer and closer towards destiny.

...

The Firebird roared down the street, hitting a good twenty miles over the speed limit. Since it was the dead of night, practically no one was on the road. It was a racer's dream... unless your race was against time.

They were a good four and three quarters' hours at least into their journey, and Seras had begun to act delirious. Alucard in the passenger's seat and Anderson driving tried to lighten the mood with jokes throughout, but everyone could tell how dire the situation was becoming.

The sun had set completely at this point, and Anderson had begun poking fun at Alucard for being a nightwalker who was currently sitting. Pip wasn't exactly sure how many jokes Anderson could squeeze out of that small frame, but so far he had gotten eleven. It would almost be impressive, if the two of them hadn't set about making almost all of their jokes as offensive as humanly possible.

Pip felt something gently squeeze him, and turned to see Seras staring curiously into his eye. A light sweat had broken out across her forehead, and her eyes looked like they were fading in and out of a daydream. She sat in the middle of him and Six Gun, and the two of them worked to keep her upright and awake. She gently squeezed him again.

"What is it, _Mon Chere_?"

"Pip", Seras asked in a wavering voice, "are we almost home?"

"Yes, _Mon Chere_, we're almost home."

"Can I see my mommy and daddy again, Pip?"

_Keep her awake, whatever you do,_ the words rang in his head from the beginning of their trip. _Keep her talking if you have to._

"Of course, _Mon Chere_, you'll see your mommy and daddy when this trip is over!"

"So I _am_ going to die."

She said it in a way that was so final that it startled Pip. Yet, she said it in a way that led Pip to believe she was ok with dying. As if she were ready to leave this world she had been inducted into.

"_Non, Mon Chere_", he began, but she cut him off.

"Are you going to see your mommy and daddy too, Pip?"

"_Non, Mon Chere_", Pip told her, "I'm not going to see my mama and papa."

"At least you'll be alive, then", she told him. She squeezed his arm again, and asked, "Will we ever see each other again, Pip?"

"Of course we will, _Mon Chere_", he told her. "Your mommy and daddy are just coming for a visit. Then we'll all be back together again."

He himself wasn't quite sure what he was rambling about, but he was trying to keep her awake more than have an intelligent conversation. She seemed to accept this, however, nodding her head. In a moment of bravery, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"You're going to live, _Mon Chere_", he told her.

She made a confused face, and told him, "But I'm already dead."

He wanted to tell her that she wasn't dead, that she was alive, and well, and that she had so much left to live for. He wanted to tell her that she wasn't alone in this limbo world, and that, inevitably, everyone would find themselves to be the walking dead, and the only thing they could do about it was to live like it was all they could do. But as he opened his mouth to tell her so, sirens sounded behind them.

Anderson glanced over his shoulder, and grimaced, declaring, "Ah, shite!"

"What's wrong", Alucard asked.

"Do ya think they'd notice if me registration is out?"

"Depends, how long has it been gone?"

"12."

"Days? That's not so bad."

"No..."

"Weeks?"

"No..."

"_Months_?"

"No..."

"YEARS?!"

"...aye..."

"Baller. Yeah, they'll notice, and they won't be happy."

"Well, then", Anderson said, loud enough to get everyone's attention. "The situation's drastically changed for the worse. Our only two options now are to run or fight, 'cause I can't go back to jail! I'm too bloody handsome!"

"Don't you also owe people money in there?"

"Yes, but that's besides the point. If we fight, we'll be wastin' precious time, so it looks like we'll have to make a mad dash for it."

He pushed a button on his center console, and a small section flipped over, revealing three switches. He opened up the ashtray, and then popped it out, revealing yet another switch. He flipped it, and the car lurched; suddenly, the car felt tighter, and jerkier... certainly more perky.

"Alrighty, fuel injector's on, and I've got nitrous at the ready. Is everyone buckled in?"

"Who cares? What else do you need to get us the hell out of here?"

"Some good music."

Alucard reached into his coat, and withdrew a CD.

"You Could Be Mine."

"Perfect."

Alucard pushed the CD into the rack, and the mood quickly changed.

Anderson hit the first dose of nitrous, and the car shot forward. Behind them, the cop began picking up speed as well, though he was a bit slow on the uptake compared to the supped-up car. The sports car continued to put distance between itself and the cop, up until Anderson grunted, and cranked the wheel to the left. The tires squealed, and the car skidded across the road, and finally shot down a much smaller road. They were now entering a small town.

"Almost missed me turn", Anderson said with a shake of his head.

He shifted gears and gunned the engine, making the monster roar like it had found the trail of its prey, and was on the hunt. The tires screeched to keep up with how fast the axle was turning, and flames were occasionally sprouting from the two tailpipes. There was no way that a single cop car, even one of the powerful Crown Royals, would ever have a chance of keeping up.

Naturally, the cop called for backup.

Two more cop cars swooped in from behind, seemingly melting in from the shadows. Upon seeing them, Anderson popped open the center console, and pressed a button inside. He quickly closed the console, turning towards Alucard.

"Panic button", Anderson explained. "The Iscariots should be waiting for us when we roll up."

"Just what I needed", Alucard told him with a grin, "a Catholic firing squad!"

"I'd say that were a double entendre", Anderson said, "but I only had one thing in mind when ye said it!"

"Yeah, yeah", Alucard said with a smirk and a dismissive wave.

The engine continued to roar, pacing itself well ahead of the multiple cop cars that followed behind. There wasn't much traffic to swerve around, so Anderson kept his foot on the gas, using the open road to his greedy motor's advantage. Before long, the cop cars were almost an afterthought.

Suddenly, two SWAT SUV's pulled onto the road directly in front of them.

"Ah, shite, we're blocked in", Anderson said idly. He turned his head to the right, and a grin formed. "Hey, wait, no we aren't!"

He cranked the wheel, taking them down a small town road. He shifted into a lower gear, and readied another dose of nitrous.

"You're about ta see some wacky shite", he said to no one in particular.

As the nose of the front bumper crossed the threshold of the end of the street, he cranked the wheel to the left and hit the boost. The car spun around, doing a perfect 270, and shot forward.

"Uh, Anderson", Alucard said, "we're going the wrong way."

"Not for long", he said, as he cranked the wheel to the right.

The car shot down another small town road, and exited onto the main road behind all of the cop cars, which all looked like they had nearly slammed into one another. Anderson cranked the wheel again, and shot straight through the wall of cars, expertly navigating the sea of metal. When he was out the other side, the cop cars seemed to come back to life, all moving at once to try and catch him. All at once, they had to stop, trying to figure out a proper order to move in so that they all didn't wreck each other.

Anderson used the opportunity to make a speedy getaway, allowing the engine to roar incessantly as he quickly switched back to the high gears. It looked like they were finally home free.

"The church is just a few miles that way", Anderson said, pointing straight ahead. "We'll be there in less than- MOTHERFUCKPUMPERNICKLE!"

If there were a better phrase to have been said, Alucard wouldn't have known it. As if from nowhere, a Crown Royal shot from a side street, actually getting air on the uptake, and smashed straight into the front left of the Firebird. The car skidded off the road, disappearing into a ditch somewhere, as the Firebird skirted off to the right, ending up in someone's front yard. The front end smashed into a tree, making the car spin around at high speeds. They finally came to a stop looking out at the road from someone else's lawn. The engine had died.

Something had struck his head... a piece of the other car... and he was having trouble seeing straight. His eyes suddenly felt dry, his eyelids heavy. He closed them for only a moment, and suddenly, the nightmare returned.

Finally, he had made himself powerful enough that no one would dare betray him... not again. But now, no one was beside him anymore, further confirming his fear, that he had always been meant for loneliness. So he fought, and ravaged, and ripped and tore, until there was nothing left at the end save a very angry Dutchman.

"_Vampire King_", he said, and once again, the nightmare that never was but should have been played out for him.

"_You lay upon the blood-soaked dirt of your ruined kingdom. Castles plundered, servants destroyed, all to end the Hell-fire with which you sought to cover the world._"

As he listed the casualty rates, Alucard pleaded with him in his mind.

_Abraham, you know me, you know my heart. Please, not again._

"_...and over twenty thousand impaled and prostrated by you and you alone to strike terror into the hearts of mortal men!_"

_No, Abraham, you know why I did it. I had to stop the Turks. The only language they speak is violence. Had I not shown them Hell on Earth, they would have shown it to my land. To my people. To me, again._

"_What say you, devil, demon, monster, conceived by the bleakest womb, WHAT SAY YOU NOW?!_"

_I'm sorry. I just wanted to trust again._

"_I say this from the bottom of my heart_", he told him instead, "_eat my entire ass._"

Abraham scowled, and rammed the sword through his chest.

Alucard gasped, waking up from the horrible nightmare that plagued his sleep. The scene was exactly how he had left it. He couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds.

Alucard looked to his left, examining the slumped form of Anderson. A piece of jagged metal, probably from the other car, had embedded itself into the side of his head. His eyes had glassed over, and his tongue had rolled out of his mouth.

Alexander Anderson was dead.

Alucard turned towards the back seat, where the other three occupants sat.

"Post Malone", Alucard called to the Southerner, who was rubbing his head, and twisting his neck to work out pains, "still alive back there?"

"And kickin' sir", he called back.

"How's the Police Girl?"

Six Gun looked over at the diminutive vampire, who was currently staring up at the ceiling. He gently tapped her shoulder. After a moment, her eyes fluttered in his direction, then went right back to staring up at the ceiling.

"Mrs. Police Girl, ma'am", he courteously called out.

"Funny", she said gently, "there aren't any stars out tonight."

"Not good, sir."

"Fuckballs", Alucard cursed.

"Don't move", someone shouted from the driver's side.

Alucard turned to see a SWAT guy tactically making his way up towards the car. He held in his hands one of those AR-15's, stylized like an M16, though without the option to produce bursts. He slowly advanced on the driver's side, his rifle leveled on Alucard.

He made his way slowly up to the car, his rifle not quite pointing at Alucard. He leaned in the shattered window, pulling the barrel of his rifle back so that it couldn't be easily grabbed. He leaned around Anderson's unmoving form, checking the backseat, and sweeping the occupants with his rifle.

His radio crackled, and Alucard, with his vampire hearin', heard someone ask, "We got him?"

The man grabbed his radio, his eyes falling on Alucard, and replied, "10-4, we got him."

Suddenly, Anderson's hand reached up towards the chunk of metal in his head. He ripped it out violently, and lunged after the SWAT man, pushing it through his abdomen, the shard easily slicing through his kevlar. The man yelped, and turned, sprinting back towards his SUV.

"Fook you, motherfooker", Anderson shouted after him, "coom back here so's I can fookin' _kell_ yer fookin' arse!"

"Anderson", Alucard questioned.

"Recognized the voice", Anderson explained nonchalantly, as he moved his hand towards the ignition switch, "these guys aren't cops."

With that, he turned the key, getting a few weak coughs from the engine. He frowned, turning the key again. This time, the engine had a few more things to say, giving off a bit more enthusiasm.

"We need to go", Alucard told Anderson, "Police Girl isn't doing well."

"Yar, yar", he said, as the last of his head wound closed up, "yer big titty assistant needs some medical attention, I need some mechanical attention, the other woman needs some hygiene attention, that guy from Texas needs some school attention, and you need some bleedin' psychological attention, it looks like everyone's parents abandoned them here."

"I mean, you're not wrong", Alucard told him, as the engine began an upwards climb in the pitch of its coughing, "I just wish you'd prioritize the kids and me over your crippling haggis addiction."

"Like I've said before, love", Anderson said nonchalantly, as the engine roared back to life, "when daddy's occupied, daddy needs to focus."

"What the fuck kind of relationship-", Pip began, but was interrupted by the engine revving.

Anderson shifted down to first gear, and floored it, causing the tires to spin, as the squad cars all sprang to life, attempting to surround the crippled Firebird. Anderson dropped the clutch, and the car shot forward, swerving into the road, and shooting off towards the church. The squad cars followed closely behind, their lights and sirens no longer going off.

The car began making hissing noises, and Anderson, in confusion, poked his head out the window, looking at the engine. His hair whipped around his head as he grumbled, and resituated himself inside.

"Bad news", he told Alucard. "We're leaking coolant. At this rate, we'll be long out before we reach the church."

"That's bad why?"

"We run out of coolant and have to use the boost", he explained, "the engine will be irreparable."

"And that pertains to the immediate situation how?"

"I kinda like this bloody car", Anderson complained, stepping on the gas.

The cars once again flew from the side roads, but now Anderson was ready for them, swerving hard to avoid them. The action threw the occupants throughout the cabin, but it left them all mostly intact. While all of this transpired, Seras tugged on Pip's arm once again.

He looked over at her, observing the state she was in. Beads of sweat were forming on her forehead, but she still maintained a half-smile on her face, her eyes half-lidded as well. She looked like she might pass out any moment.

"Pip", she asked, "do you think the stars are so pretty because they like us?"

"Uh, sure", Pip told her, doing his best to pretend that what she had just said made any sense. He called up to the front, saying, "She's not doing well! Move, move!"

"Fook off", Anderson yelled back, swerving around another flying Crown Royal. "You try an' drive this absolute clusterfook of a bleedin' excuse for a Mario level an' I'll tell _you_ ta bloody MOVE!"

Within seconds, the church was in sight.

"Fuck it", Alucard said, and hit the last boost.

Anderson, not ready for the sudden jerk at all, almost lost control of the car, careening them into the parking lot, and putting the car into a tailspin just to try and slow them down. As soon as they were through, a group of robed Catholics put a large iron bar down over the entrance, forcing the police vehicles to stop in their tracks, making a few of them ram into each other.

When the crippled Firebird finally came to a stop, Anderson looked just about relieved. For a moment, nobody moved, everyone trying to process that they were now safe. Anderson patted the steering wheel of the Firebird, giving it praise even though it had cut itself off.

Then the engine caught on fire.

"Shite", Anderson said. "EVERYBODY OUT!"

Alucard and Anderson both bailed out of their respective sides like they were jumping off a boat to go snorkeling. Six Gun grabbed his shotgun, and leapt out of the car quickly. Pip turned to open his door, but Seras tugged on his shoulder again. He turned around to see that half-lidded half-smile expression again.

"Where are we, Pip", she asked him in a drowsy voice. "Are the beds soft here? I'm ok with being anywhere as long as the beds are soft."

"_Merde_", Pip breathed, wondering what he was going to do about the Police Girl.

He tapped her shoulder, and pointed behind her, saying, "Look, uh... ice cream!"

"Ooh, what flavor", Seras asked as she turned around to look out of the window.

Pip hooked his arms underneath her armpits, and began pulling her out of the side of the car, mumbling a sorry. She yelped at first, but after a second or two, it was like she didn't mind anymore. As her body, which was surprisingly heavy, passed from the threshold of the car, her eyes landed on the night sky.

"Look, Pip", she said, as Pip continued dragging her away, "stars! Aren't they so pre-"

The car exploded.

The brilliant flash lit up the night sky.

The heat radiated like sticking a hand on the hot irons of an oven.

"ME CAR", Anderson shouted in exasperation.

"MY RIFLE", Pip shouted out of demoralization.

"MY JAMS", Alucard shouted in despair.

"MY EYES! SOMEONE TOOK MY EYES", Seras screamed in confusion, covering her face with her hands.

By now, the "cops" had dismounted, and a few of them had begun engaging in a serious discourse with the Catholic guards at the gate. Alucard walked over to Pip, and pushed him away from Seras with a single hand, merely asserting dominance. Before he could protest, Alucard had bent down and scooped Seras up into a Fireman's Carry.

"We can mourn our losses later", Alucard told the intrepid crew. "For now, let's make sure we don't add another to the list."

Alucard and Anderson sprinted for the front door, with the two Mercs trailing behind them. The doors to the church opened before them, and light spilled out, revealing lots of guns in their faces.


	21. Chapter 18: Parental Guidance Suggested

_The absolute worst thing that you can do in a survival situation is forget to breath. The next worst thing would be forgetting to drink water, and the next worse thing after that is to fall into an obvious trap without a plan. After that, it progressively moves towards sticking your dick in a blender. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 18: Parental Guidance Suggested

There were quite a few battle rifles in their faces. G3's, chambered in 7.62x51mm, Pip noticed almost immediately. Another excellent weapon, one that had served the Germans rather well.

Apparently, they were serving the Vatican now, too.

And once again, he found himself on the wrong end of these magnificent weapons.

Anderson rushed in front of them, calling out, "Weapons down, they're with me."

The Iscariots, almost begrudgingly it seemed, lowered their weapons. Some of them turned sour gazes on Alucard, and hesitant ones on Pip and Six Gun. The ones who didn't had their eyes on Anderson.

"Listen up", Anderson told them, "I need a table, with lots of towels underneath and around it. I need all three barrels of holy water from the back, and I need an IV kit."

The Iscariots, despite the confusion on their faces, immediately got to work. Within the span of two minutes, a table appeared before them, surrounded by towels. Alucard laid Seras flat on her back on the table just as one of the Iscariots appeared from the back room, rolling an old wooden barrel towards the table.

Anderson rolled up his sleeves, removed his gloves, and cracked his knuckles.

"One to sit on", Anderson told the Iscariots, as he rolled up Seras's sleeve.

The wound, Pip could see, had spread quite a bit. The black lines had traveled far up her arm, now having reached her bicep. Anderson scowled, giving a grunt of dissatisfaction.

"If I were speakin' to a saner man", he said, waving a hand in Alucard's direction, "I'd suggest we cut the bloody thing off an' be done with it."

"She's not losing an arm on my watch", Alucard told him with a deadpanned expression.

"...But I won't bother tellin' ye such", Anderson continued, "because yer a flippin' maniac. Where the heck's that IV kit?!"

"The fuck's with all this censorship?"

"Ay, watch yer bloody mouth, we're in a church!"

"Father Anderson", one of the Iscariots, who sported a heavy Italian accent, voiced. "Would it be appropriate to ask _why_ we are lending aid to one of the Vatican's worst enemies?"

"No", Anderson told him without turning his head. "Papa Anderson knows best; follow his lead, and ye'll survive this cruel world, ye understand?"

"Of course, sir", the Iscariot responded quickly with a nod.

Pip was acutely aware of the fact that they were slowly being surrounded by Iscariot agents, and that they were not happy about them being in this particular church. They seemed to be a bit itchy with their rifles as it was, with at least one of them questionably raising theirs every time one of the newcomers so much as moved. To Pip, though, that was all background noise.

Seeing Seras like this, helpless, and potentially dying, it made his heart ache. He wanted to reach out and squeeze her hand, take at least some of her pain away. He had gone and fallen in love with the woman, and now she was going to die. Such was his luck.

"Where on earth is that IV I asked fer?!"

Within the amount of breath it had taken him to ask that question, he had completely slid out of his trench coat. To Pip, it seemed like a logical and ordinary thing to do given the circumstance, but as he glanced at the Iscariots surrounding him, he saw that they wore curious, calculating, and even horrified expressions on their faces, glancing from him to the newcomers as if they were an entirely new thing to be considered. He wasn't sure what the significance of the trench coat was, but Pip was certain that if they didn't have the Iscariots' attention before, they undoubtedly had it now.

By the time a young nun had approached Alexander Anderson with an odd contraption in her hand, he had removed his clerical robes as well, and now stood in nothing but pants and his nice shoes. Pip was almost surprised to bear witness to the absolute hulk of a man who stood before him. He knew he had to have been in good shape, just by the way he moved, but his muscles were huge and numerous, with biceps easily as big as cannon balls, and pectorals that would have made Arnold Schwarzenegger ashamed. Perhaps that had been a slight exaggeration, yet, despite this, he had a relatively flat stomach with no apparent abdominal muscles.

Noticing where Pip was looking, the Scotsman grinned.

"Having abs doesn't mean yer strong, lass", he told the supposed woman, "it just means ye don't eat enough!"

The nun approached him, a cute little blond thing, and gently called his name, holding out the apparatus. It looked like a needle had been crudely attached to a tube with a squeezable bulb in the center of it.

He carefully took it, saying, "Bless ye, lass. Now run along; this'll get bloody."

The nun stood in place, almost as if she hadn't even heard him, carefully observing every inch of the muscular man. For a moment, it seemed that Anderson was too focused on Seras to notice, but after a moment, he turned his head towards her, a frown that showed his white teeth adorning her face.

"Go away", he told her, shooing her away with a flick of his wrist.

The nun seemed to remember herself, and quickly turned on her heels to leave, a blush rising to her cheeks.

Anderson turned back to the task at hand, as a group of Iscariots moved one of the wooden barrels closer to the table, standing it right-side up. Anderson popped the cork off of the top, and stuck the open end of the tube into the open barrel. He began pumping on the little bulb, and sure enough, liquid passed through the tube.

A bit of it spurted out of the end, landing on Seras' exposed arm. She yelped like she had been struck, and turned a horrified gaze on Anderson.

"That hurt", she said, in a voice that melted Pip's heart.

"Sorry, girly", Anderson told her with a semi-grin, "but this is only a taste of what's ta come. Unlike with sex, this won't get less painful with time."

"Wait", Alucard said, holding up a hand, his eyebrows shooting up, "is _that_ how sex is supposed to be?! I think I've been doing it wrong!"

"Alright, buddy", Anderson told him, "the humor ends here. From now until this is over, pure concentration."

Anderson laid a hand across Seras' forehead, saying, "and girly, whatever ya do, do _not_ fall asleep or pass out. Bite your tongue off if'n ya must do it ta keep yourself from fallin' asleep."

Seras gave him a confused look, but asked no questions. Anderson inserted the needle just above where the black track lines had spread. Then he began squeezing the bulb.

The screaming that Seras gave off was like listening to a cat be skinned alive. She spasmed and convulsed, and without being told, the Iscariots lunged on her limbs and held her down. With a grim sort of humor, Pip guessed that Seras wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon.

Slowly, very slowly, the track marks began descending back down to the wound. Pip watched, infatuated, as the burly Scot held her limb down with one hand, and made the black lines disappear by squeezing the other. Alucard watched the entire ordeal with a deadpan expression, and Six Gun looked like he was watching the world be created.

Pip wasn't quite sure what to think about all of this. As Seras screamed and wailed, she was actively being cured. He supposed that it was part of being dead; everything came with a price.

Slowly, the tracks continued their crawl back towards the wound. The screams never ceased, never died down. Seras was not getting used to this pain.

Anderson, for his part, handled the entire thing like a professional, keeping a careful watch on his instruments, and occasionally glancing at the wound itself to take stock of its progress. Only once did he do anything different, briefly letting go of the bulb to push his glasses back up his nose.

_"You give her money, to laugh at your dick, 'cause she thinks it's funny, it looks like a kid's" _

The grainy sound of music being played through a flip phone's speakers interrupted the mood of the room. Most of the Iscariots and even Pip glanced towards Alucard as he fumbled to silence the newly acquired phone. The phone screamed obscenities through the speaker.

_"I told that bitch to crush my nutsack, until I fucking jizz, I don't even want my nuts back, I don't wanna have no kids" _

Finally able to pull the phone out of his pocket, Alucard immediately flipped it open, grumbling about how he needed to change the ringtones.

"Helsing Organization, Alucard speaking."

"Allow me to read off to you this case file that was just forwarded to me by the Virginia police", Integra told him in a harsh tone to the sound of shuffling papers. "'When asked about his presence at the warehouse, the subject in question responded, 'Yeah, all I know is that I'm upstairs listening to my Will Smith CD, and I seen all these flames goin' everywhere'. The interrogator in question then attempted to change the subject, but the suspect in question continued, declaring, 'Hold on a minute, bitch', and then repeatedly screaming, 'Detroit, what''."

"Detroit, baby", Alucard replied with a grin.

"Alucard, are you aware that you have a reputation to uphold? One that is tied to the Helsing Organization as a business?"

"No, that's what we have those PR guys for."

"It helps if you're not a complete and total _asshole_ all the time!"

Right then, Seras let out a piercing scream.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That sounded like the Police Girl."

"What did?"

"Alucard", Integra asked in an even tone, "did you kill the Police Girl?"

"No! … she died on her own time."

"Fucking hell."

"Look, you wanna run around trying to keep your big titty assistants alive, be my guest. But don't criticize _me_ for doing nothing while you're an ocean away, getting ahead of me on our hentai!"

"First of all", Integra began, "I didn't say you did nothing, more like I was implying the entire ordeal was undoubtedly your fault. Second of all, I have been _far_ too busy cleaning up your messes to even so much as open any new tabs. Third of all, is she going to live?"

"Count on it", Alucard told her confidently, though a grimace adorned his face as he said so.

He whipped the phone closed, returning his attention to Anderson, who had begun to pump again.

The screaming continued, and Pip was half-tempted to plug his ears to save his heart. But with a sudden descent, the screaming moved into dreary whimpering. Pip returned his gaze to the track marks, and to his horror, they were moving up her arm at an alarming rate. It quickly moved all the way up to her collarbone in a matter of seconds.

"No", Alucard said in a commanding voice, "no, _no_, NO!"

He walked over to Seras, shoving an Iscariot out of the way. He grabbed onto her other arm, squeezing it so hard the Pip thought he might break it.

"Fight it, Seras", he yelled, getting his serious face down into her drowsy one. "Fight it, for the love of God!"

Within moments, the tracks had made their way up her neck, and her eyes fluttered closed.

Alucard threw his head back, letting lose a scream that conveyed such horrific torment that it almost made Pip vomit.

...

Seras wasn't quite sure where she had gone, or, furthermore, how she had ended up here in the first place. She didn't feel like she was in a room; rather a large, dark expanse, that she could somehow touch and see. She hesitated to believe that she could smell it and hear it or even taste it, as her mouth felt like cotton, she could only taste her own tongue, and she had yet to hear anything significant enough to constitute a full noise.

The place seemed to be lit just enough for her to see, and yet dark enough for her to be unable to make out anything. From what she could see of it, there were no walls, roof, or otherwise identifying features.

"Am I in some kind of parallel dimension", she thought out loud.

The thought would have been impossible to her a few months ago, but so much had happened within that time, she was willing to believe anything at this point.

"In a manner of speaking", a smooth, even, and light voice responded, "yes. You've been... carried to my very own corner of the world."

Seras whipped around, focusing on the new presence in the place. What she found was a man, with soft brown eyes, and an even softer smile. His short but attentive hair had an almost salt-and-pepper look, if someone had been a bit heavy on the salt, especially on his well-kept, small mustache. Despite his seeming age, his hair was only just beginning to thin at the top. His skin looked an odd combination of soft and malleable, yet leathery and firm, creased with lines of age, mostly across his forehead. He was incredibly thin, with only the barest hint of fat in the rises of his cheeks. His nose was a bit large, but ultimately, the perfect size for his face, with the hint of a crook at the end that was overshadowed by how thick it was. His trim eyebrows were knit in a way that made him look warm and inviting, yet curious and a bit mysterious. His outfit was all black, with a black suit, no tie, and a black shirt over black dress pants and black suede shoes, and he carried a cane with him. His hands were small and soft, with small veins that popped up atop his hands. Currently, he was sitting atop nothing, with one leg crossed over the other, and both hands resting atop the cane.

"Who are you", Seras blurted out.

"An apt question", the man said with a chuckle, "and straight to the point. Seras Victoria, I am your father."

Without really meaning to, Seras burst out laughing. The man maintained his expression, calmly waiting for her to finish.

She pointed at him, saying, "I know what me father looks like, an' you don't look a _bit _like him, bruv."

"Your life father, yes", the man told her in his gravelly, choir-like voice. "You see, in this new life of yours, you have two fathers; your life father, and your unlife father. I am the latter."

Seras considered that for a moment, then countered, "But how could _you_ be my father when Alucard sired me?"

The smile on his face seemed to widen only slightly.

"Ah, yes, Al-u-card", he said in a way that seemed like it was an inside joke only him and Alucard knew the punchline to. "I am his father too. And his father's father. And his father's father's father. You see, Seras, I am father to _all _vampires."

She didn't have any smart response to that, so, instead, she stupidly echoed, "_All_ vampires?"

"Yes, Seras", he said with a soft smile. "_All _vampires."

"Why?"

Seras thought it was a dumb question, but the man didn't treat it like a dumb question. He smiled softly, standing from his nonexistent bench, and walked carefully and precisely towards her, using the cane to support himself. Seras had seen people who had been crippled bad enough to need them, and she had busted people who were using them as an excuse to siphon disability. She got the feeling that while the man favored his right leg, the cane was just for show, and he was perfectly capable without it.

He gently snaked an arm around her shoulder, confirming her theory by being at her side faster than she could have blinked. He extended an arm outwards, towards what had moments ago been endless void. But as Seras turned her head, the void resolved itself into a vision.

"It began with my brother", he said, "a long, long time ago."

The vision was of two young men, running through a field. Neither of them looked like the man before her; their skin was tan, and leathery from hard work and lots of sunlight. Their hair grew long and wild, and they wore robes that reminded her of tunics.

"Where did you say the creature was", one of the brothers asked the other.

"Just a little farther", the other responded.

Eventually, the two of them came across a soft, muddy indention in the earth, with plenty of rocks around it. The first brother cautiously made his way forward, further into the mud. The second bent down, and picked up a large rock.

When the first had waded into the deeper mud, the second brought the rock down on the back of his head. His head split open, spilling his life essence out, but instead of falling down, the first grabbed onto the back of his bleeding head, turning around in shock. An expression of pure terror adorned his face.

"Cain", he asked, almost calmly, "why?"

Cain brought the rock down again, this time on Able's forehead. This time, Able went down, his blood oozing out into the mud. Cain set the rock on Able's chest, using its weight to sink his body further into the muck. When Able's body had disappeared into the mud, Cain turned around and left.

"And, of course", the man said with a sigh, "God found out. So he cursed me to wander the earth, and put a seal upon me. He knew I would be hated, so he gave my would-be attackers something to fear."

_"If ever someone were to lay their hands on you, you shall be avenged sevenfold." _

"That was, of course, the end of me as a child. I went on to father many children, and even build cities. Yet, I never felt like I had any real control over my own life. When I lay dying of age, however, I finally got the chance that had always eluded me._He, the other one_, came into my life, and offered me a solution; eternal life, with a price... one that I was more than happy to pay, and one that I was more than happy to share with others."

"The blood?"

"No, child, not the blood", he told her with a soft smile. "A different price; four of my... descendants... will be used to overthrow the forces of Heaven."

"Well, great, now I'm bloody confused."

"The only way we could ever win the coming war", he explained, "would be to strike first... in a meaningful way. For this, we need four horsemen... our own versions of War, Strife, Famine... and Death."

"But Master doesn't have a horse!"

"But he does, child! Feast your eyes on _OM PLUG_!"

Out of the shadow walked... Seras thought it might be a horse, but it was so tall she couldn't be certain. It was covered in sleek, darkened armor, like the kind the man from those memories had. It had a long blade curving up the front of its faceplate, like the blade of a scythe had been transplanted to the front of his face, and its eyes glowed red, like two terrific spotlights from lighthouses.

"Return to your Rider, _Om Plug_", the man said, and the horse once again disappeared into the shadows.

"You see, child", the man told her gently, "I have been following your master since his true inception, when his driving force was vengeance, and his thirst for death was unquenchable. When he was bit, I was there, and when he rose to power, I was by his side. I helped him along his journey... until Anna came along. Then he fell for her, and he was lost to me. That despicable Helsing family helped convince him that he was too powerful for his own good, so he sealed himself from the world... and me. But now, I have you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"What could you possibly need me for?"

The man smiled wide.

"You see, child", he told Seras, "you are offspring to him, in a way, and by extension, you are offspring to me. You are my bridge to him, and I intend to exploit that bridge."

Something about the way he had said "exploit" made Seras recognize immediately that she didn't want to accept whatever offer he had prepared.

"All you need do", he continued, giving her a smile that showed off his fangs, "is accept my own bite."

"Um", Seras said, taking a step back, "I, um... don't really like to be bit."

"I understand, child", the man told her, relaxing his face back into that soft smile. "But it is a moment's discomfort for unimaginable power."

"I don't want power", Seras told him, becoming agitated, "I just want to live!"

"I'm afraid that once you have... died... you remain dead, my dear."

"Well, then, no bloody thanks!"

The smile disappeared from his face. He tapped his cane on the ground, and suddenly, he was someone else.

He wore a wide-brimmed, brown hat, an old, black duster, light brown cotton pants held up by a pair of brown suspenders that accented a white, cotton button-up shirt. He had a nice pair of dark brown shoes that went well with his pants. His hat sported a crossed revolvers insignia, which looked a little brash and boisterous, yet it didn't seem out of place on him. The thing that changed most, however, was his face. He now had a youthful, if knowledgeable, and almost mocking complexion about him, in some ways strikingly similar to Alucard's own face, and his hair had grown down past his ears and lost its white color. His hands, still uncovered, were rough and calloused, especially so around the knuckles, and his eyes glowed red like a demented spotlight, having no discernible features beneath the glow.

"Listen, little lady", he said, in a tone that was deep, gravely, a little bit deadpan, and very dangerous, "I'm not sure that you've got much of a choice here. You're in _my _world, and when you're in my world, you play by my rules."

"You're wrong, ya muppet", Seras told him. "If you need me to get to him, then you ain't gonna hurt me. I know how this kinda crap works."

The man stared her down, becoming unmoving like a horrific statue to some god of death. Slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up, revealing a mouth full of sharp, white teeth. He quite suddenly threw his head back and laughed, startling Seras into jumping.

His features began to melt back to what they had been before, to the kindly old man he had once been.

"You're right, child", he told her gently. "I won't harm you. But you will harm your master."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The man waved a hand, and an image appeared behind him. The image was of Alucard, Pip, and Six Gun, all surrounding the table where Seras lay. The Iscariots all had their rifles leveled at them, minus Anderson, who still seemed to be sitting where he had been. The Iscariots began inching closer, and Alucard drew both of his pistols.

_"Any one of you pricks move__"_, Alucard shouted,_ "__I'll execute every motherfucking one of you!"_

"You see, Seras", he told her, "the strain you have put on him? I can keep you here indefinitely, and at the end of the day,_you're_the one on the ticking clock. Because that werewolf venom is still working its way up your veins, and you're torturing him by letting yourself go. Is that what you want? To be named someone's tormentor?"

Seras listened intently, but movement in the background caught her eye. Anderson moved his fingers up to her eyelids, peeling one back to see underneath, and letting it slowly back down, a puzzled look on his face.

"Seras", the man told her, "you pretend that you don't care about him, and I know you have your differences... and your doubts."

Suddenly, Anderson's face lit up with understanding. He sat up straight, focusing his core, and began breathing deeply, letting his eyelids roll shut in concentration.

"But at the end of it all", he concluded, "you will return to him. Because we are, after all, one... big... happy... family."

Anderson gently brought a hand up, and laid it across her forehead.

"So for me", he told her, "this whole debacle is only a matter of time before a resolution reveals itself. And waiting is something that I am very, very good at."

Seras began to feel a warmth creeping up behind her. The man grew a puzzled look on his face, and glanced over her shoulder to see what was behind her. Seras cranked her neck around to see the warm source as well.

Light.

A doorway of light.

Seras didn't need to think about it. She turned, and sprinted for the light. She couldn't feel the man following her, and for a moment, she entertained the thought of being home free. But as soon as she reached the light, her flesh began sizzling. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. She shrieked, and jumped back instinctively. The man chuckled.

"You could leave through the light, yes", the man told her merrily, "but it is difficult to stand in the light when one belongs to the dark."

In a flash, he was by her side.

"Tell me, Seras", he asked her in a voice that suggested he already knew the answer to his question, "what keeps you in the dark?"

Seras could swear that she heard boots pounding across tile floor, coming from the door, but she couldn't be sure.

"I don't know", she told him, with tears welling up in her eyes, "I've done nothing wrong!"

"Then the answer is quite obvious, don't you think?"

"No!"

"The only thing that keeps you in the dark is your fear. You are a coward, unable to move forward, for fear that the way forward will burn you, so to speak."

"You don't know anything about me!"

"But I know everything about you, Seras! After all... I am your-"

"HEAVENLY FATHER, SHIELD ME", Alexander Anderson cried out, as he jumped through the doorway of light, swinging a bayonet at the man.

The man seemed fazed by the sudden appearance of Anderson, but not so much that he couldn't quickly dodge... so quick, in fact, that it appeared he had simply shifted from one area to another without truly moving. As Anderson brought down another strike, the man physically moved to dodge, easily ducking under the blessed blade. The man brought his cane up, and pushed Anderson back with it, giving him enough time to change his appearance back to that cynical, dangerous man.

"Well, what do we have here", he said, in that same, gravelly voice. "A little sheep got lost from its flock. You walked into the wolf's den, sheep, and now I'm gonna make you my dinner."

"You'll find this sheep's got horns", Anderson told him, in the way that men will when they vie for domination. "And you'll find that this particular sheep is quite proficient with 'em, Cain."

"Is it really that obvious", the man said, in a deadpan tone and wicked grin that indicated he may not have minded that someone had finally found him out.

"Aye", Anderson affirmed. "Ya stick out like a sore on a donkey's arse."

"Well, then", Cain told Anderson with that same grin, "I suppose there's no point in hiding it."

Suddenly, Seras felt an overwhelming weight on her chest, as if the very air was being pushed out of her lungs. Anderson, apparently already aware of what was about to happen, quickly flung his bayonet in Cain's direction. Cain dodged, but not with quite the same speed he had shown previously. The bayonet tore a ribbon off of his white shirt, and left a thin red line underneath.

Anderson grunted. Cain grew a long, wide, toothy grin.

Suddenly, Anderson's side exploded into a bloody geyser. Blood gushed straight out of a gash that seemed to have almost instantaneously appeared. Seras was entirely certain that she hadn't seen Cain move that entire time, yet Anderson was critically wounded... in the same spot Cain had been barely scratched in.

"Looks like you're up shit creek", Cain told Anderson through that big grin, as Anderson fell to the ground, clutching his side in pain. "And now you've just gone and lost your paddle."

Cain approached Anderson, his teeth growing long and sharp in his mouth. the wound at his side evaporated, and his clothes mended so quickly, it was almost as if he had never been wounded in the first place.

"I've never added a Regenerator to my fold before", he said offhandedly, still making confident strides towards the wounded father. "Alucard seems to think they'd be the next evolution of vampires. Can you believe that, little girl?"

Seras had tried to get as flat on the ground as possible, and now she was scrambling back towards that doorway of light. The warmth it provided was little comfort to what was unfolding before her. Cain reached down towards Anderson's neck.

"You know", Cain said, as he paused to sniff Anderson's skin, "I've heard it said that no good deed goes unpunished, father. You think that's 'cause we run this world?"

"Ya may be correct", Anderson told Cain, "but there's hope at the end for us, 'cause the Lord's gonna burn ye bastards away!"

Anderson leaped up, pushing the silver cross hanging around his neck into Cain's forehead. Cain howled in pain, stepping back, and holding his face in his hands. His appearance melted once more, into that boy with the tunic and long hair Seras had been shown in the vision, only now, his face was wrinkled, and his hair was snow white.

Anderson leaped up, his wound sealing up right as he reached Seras. He grabbed her up by the arm, and quickly hauled her to her feet.

"C'mon, girly", he told her, "we're leavin'."

Anderson held onto her hand, yanking her through the doorway. Her flesh sizzled, and she cried out in pain. It wasn't fair that Anderson was putting her through this; after all-

Her illusions were shattered as she saw smoke rising from Anderson's skin as well. Anderson gritted his teeth and trudged forward, squinting his eyes against the blinding light. Seras swallowed, and leaped in behind him, biting her lip to keep from screaming.

Behind her, Cain lowered his hands, the burn mark where the cross had embedded in his flesh finally fading away.

"Burn us away", he asked in a questioning tone, as he once again melted into the kindly old man in the black suit, glaring at their backs as they left him behind. "We'll see... about that."

...

Seras awoke with a scream. She had just had a horrible dream, and now her arm was in terrible pain. Turning to her left, she could see that Anderson was in terrible pain, too, clutching at his side, and grimacing. Turning to her right, she could see Alucard was aiming his huge handcannons at the people who were supposed to be helping them. To his right, Six Gun had picked up his shotgun, and to his left, Pip was leveling his 1911.

"M-Master", Seras said, finding her throat was dry and her words were like shards of glass coming up her esophagus.

Alucard turned his head around, lowering his guns. He did a full 180, and let his guns drop to the ground. He walked straight up to her, and took her right hand, squeezing it hard.

"I'm right here", he told her, looking over his glasses to look into her eyes.

"_Mon Chere_", Pip practically cried out, as he holstered his gun, and raced to her side. "Your arm!"

Seras glanced back down at her left arm, and to her pleasant surprise, the track marks were beating a hasty retreat back to the center point of the wound. There was still plenty of swelling around the bite, and it still looked like something that would otherwise be up for amputation. But finally, there was some good news.

Anderson leaned back up, looking over her arm, intently watching the tracks. When they had retreated to the area of swelling, Anderson looked up at Alucard.

"Now or never", he told the old vampire.

Alucard grabbed Seras' right hand, and steadied her upper arm with his other. He opened his mouth, extending his fangs, and threw his mouth onto the bite. Seras screamed at the intense and very weird sensation of having the venom sucked out of her arm, yet to her great surprise, the swelling went down in a matter of seconds. When Alucard withdrew his fangs from the wound, it looked to be no more than a few holes with a little blood leaking from them.

Alucard stood up straight, nodding at Anderson. Anderson nodded right back, and reached into his coat that lay beside him.

In a flash, Anderson withdrew a bayonet, and cleaved Alucard's head from his shoulders. Blood flew everywhere, and Seras let out a piercing scream of shock at the sight. Pip once again leveled his pistol at Anderson, but Anderson had already vaulted the table, and sliced a huge line into Alucard's chest. The decapitated body made an odd gurgling sound as Anderson reached into his pants pocket, withdrawing a small glass jar filled with clear liquid, a cross emblazoned on it. Anderson pushed it straight into the wound, and rammed his bayonet into it, shattering it inside of Alucard's body.

The body continued making those odd gurgling noises, as it stumbled backwards, clutching its chest in pain. The Iscariots all raised their rifles, aiming at the decapitated creature. Anderson raised his hand, and pointed to the head instead, which lay on one cheek, with a green fluid leaking from its mouth.

Seras screamed as everyone fired their rifles at once, reducing the head to a mound of meat in a matter of seconds. The Anderson pointed at the body, and they unleashed a storm of bullets on it, too, pricking the white shirt full of red holes like some kind of pin cushion.

Pip once again leveled his 1911 at Anderson, yelling, "Stop!"

Anderson pointed his bayonet at Pip in a gesture of defiance, declaring, "Fire that weapon, lady, see what happens."

By this point, all of the other Iscariots had stopped firing on Alucard's mangled corpse, and had turned their weapons on Pip and Six Gun instead. Pip grimaced, but kept his aim level. Six Gun racked his shotgun in defiance.

However, as soon as the corpse of Alucard rose again, complete with a half-finished face, the mood changed entirely.

The half-finished face gave an odd half-grin as the rest of him was knit back together, and advanced quickly on Anderson. Anderson almost instinctively turned towards him, dropping the bayonet in his hand, letting it clatter to the ground. The two men clasped hands in what appeared to be the same style as the hand shake in Predator.

"We bleedin' did it, laddy", Anderson said through his wide grin.

"Meh, I knew we would", Alucard told him nonchalantly, as they dropped the handshake.

"Father Anderson", an Iscariot with a thick Italian accent commented, "I believe I speak for all of us when I ask why you would go to such lengths to save this woman... and furthermore, why you would allow what is essentially a walking blasphemy into a sacred church... no offense."

"He's talking about_you_, Pip", Alucard told him with a sideways grin. "You better say, 'none taken'!"

"Look, lads and lasses", Anderson told them all, puffing out his barreled, meaty chest, "I know that what I've done may seem strange to all of you, but I've given all of yous the same speech a hundred times. Sometimes I do things that are questionable, but I always do it with Christ and the Church in mind. One of these days, all that I've done will make sense, but until that day comes, just know that I would not lead ye down a false path, nor make ya worship any false gods. That being said, these idiots are now welcome members of our beloved church, and ye best treat 'em like it, or I'll clobber the lot of ya."

Seras got the distinct impression that the Iscariots weren't happy with the newcomers being welcome, much less in their cathedral, but none of them voiced any further complaints. Alucard glanced back at Seras, as if he were trying to remind himself that she was alive and well. Something on the ground by her table caught his eye, and he bent over to pick it up. To Seras' horror, it was her doodling journal. Alucard quickly stuffed it into the pocket of his pants, as Anderson approached the table once more.

"You're safe here, lass", Anderson affirmed to her, despite being sweaty and shirtless. "No harm'll come to ye. Get some rest; you'll need it."

She tried to open her mouth and say something, but her throat felt like she had been binge-eating fiberglass for three days straight. She pointed to Alucard's pocket, but Anderson gently pushed her arm back to her side, gently shushing her.

"Rest now, ya hear?"

Pip slid up next to her table as well, planting his back firmly against it, and crossing his arms over his chest, intently watching the Iscariots that still milled about, uncertain of what to do. He withdrew a cigarette, putting it between his lips. Almost instantly, Anderson reached over and plucked it from him.

"Ya shouldn't smoke these, lass", he told Pip with a disappointed look on his face. "They'll kill ya, aye?"

He turned around, grinning at Alucard, saying, "Ay, old boy, I've got a present for ya!"

By then, Seras was beginning to realize just how heavy her eyes were. She supposed it wouldn't make too much of a difference if she just closed them for a moment...

...

Schrodinger really didn't want to be standing in front of the congregation on the zeppelin right now; in fact, more than anything, he wanted to find a dark corner to curl up in. Yet, here he was, standing before the entire congregation of the small incursion force, about two hundred in total on this smaller assault zeppelin, with such charming faces as Captain Logan and the Major himself. Zorin had been given the enviable task of preparing the other two zeppelins in the fleet with the annihilation of London, while he, of course, was being stared at disapprovingly by the crew of this smaller vessel.

It wasn't so much that he had failed that was making him feel uncomfortable being up here... moreover, it was something he had seen because of his failure.

After he had finished off the werewolf who had snuck up on him, he had turned his head to see Alucard being run through with a broken sword. Thinking that this was a rather interesting sight, he turned to pick up the camera and hopefully salvage this shit recording session, when a single word escaped the woman's lips, in the form of a question.

"Vlad?"

Asked with such passion, such vibrant wonder, it resembled someone learning what they already knew to be true, but in a context that finally made sense. For someone who existed simply because he knew he did, it made the hairs on his arms stand on end. As he turned towards the two people, he was witnessing someone truly exist for the first time in a very long time, and not by their own accord.

As the man, with his long, flowing, curly hair, and his long mustache smiled, it was like watching someone who was dead in the soul breathed back to life. He was watching something he had almost forgotten himself; true beauty. It captivated him to no end.

"I don't blame you for forgetting me, Anna", the man told her, in an accent that was similar to hers, yet impossibly richer and thicker. "It is hard for me to remember the man I once was. A man who found worth in words like Justice and Righteousness. Too long ago, that man, who was forced from a boy, was forced from me, and I feel like I have since been endlessly adrift at sea... on a prison ship."

Now, the boy was wrestling with some questions of his own; what questions he should be asking, since he felt compelled to ask, or if he should be asking them at all.

"Now then", the Major addressed the crowd, interrupting his thoughts. "Who can tell me what Warrant Officer Schrodinger did wrong?"

He had to restrain from bristling every time they addressed him by his rank. Warrant Officer was a title given to him ceremonially, more to excuse his age rather than promote him. It was yet another reminder of the fact that Mengele had chosen to conduct his experiment on a child rather than a consenting man.

"Um", one of the men from the crowd spoke up, "he called Captain Logan mean names?"

That was another thing, too. When the werewolf had snuck up on him, he had been enraged enough to direct a nearly fifteen-minute-long rant at werewolves in general, and five of those minutes were directed at Logan specifically. He didn't have any particular thing against the man; in fact, he quite respected him as one of the only crewmen who didn't constantly treat him as either a child or a pet. Moreover, the rage itself was focused on the fact that Logan never spoke. There were plenty of occasions when Schrodinger would feel comfortable to ask Logan advice or guidance, only for the man to either grunt or silently stare at him, and then the awkward cycle would continue yet again.

Logan, for his part, had taken the rant during the video in stride. Perhaps he was, himself, quite aware of how his silent impassableness made him rather difficult to like. Now, it seemed, that fact didn't even bother him.

"While I would consider it unwise to direct your wrath towards a man who can manipulate astral projection", the Major told the questionnaire, "our Logan is a rather level-headed character, and criticism is something he is willing to take in stride. Therefore, _nein_, that is not what Schrodinger did wrong."

"He broke the camera?"

"While it is unfortunate the camera is mostly unsalvageable", the Major told him, "equipment is cheap when you've got Hitler's gold in your bank account, _nein_?"

"He should have let the werewolf rape him?"

That was another precarious fact of the matter that Schrodinger didn't care to think too hard on. The werewolf in question had called him a "pretty little thing", and had tried to pull his pants down shortly before he had taken a knife to the face. Schrodinger couldn't repress a shudder as thinking of that werewolf pulling down his pants brought back even worse memories of Auschwitz.

"First of all, Klaus", the Major said, narrowing his eyes at the questioning comrade, "I want you to report to Doc's room for a psychiatric checkup immediately."

The Nazi in question left the room, grumbling about how he was just throwing out ideas.

"Second of all", the Major continued, "no; Herr Schrodinger is not an object to be toyed with. He is a soldier, with soldierly duties."

That was about the highest praise he had ever gotten from the Major. He would have been beaming with pride if he wasn't still trying to shake away the dark thoughts that kept demanding his attention. He was a thinking creature by nature, with thought being the very blood that flowed through his veins, and when a thought entered his mind, it couldn't leave like a normal man's thoughts could.

"No, I do believe you are all quite missing the point-"

"He should have set up the tripod?"

"_NEIN_! Well, actually, _ja_, but there is more to it than that... he should have been _prepared__,_ my fellow Germans,_prepared_ to film away in the event that he wasn't able to do so himself! You see, my brothers in arms, we have been _preparing_ for this war for so long that we seem to be forgetting that_ preparation is our __salvation_! We doddle about without a care in the world, forgetting so plainly that when we do the simple tasks... when we do the _creative, forward thinking_ tasks, we are setting ourselves up for success! Yes, a big portion of the outcome of this coming war will depend on luck... but, as they say, luck... favors... the _prepared_!"

"So, he _should _have set up the tripod?"

"_Ja, ja,_he should have set up the tripod. Fine, if that's all you want to take from this, then you're all dismissed to go do whatever it is you do."

As the congregation went off to go do their daily tasks, the Major turned to Schrodinger, saying, "Don't leave just yet, Warrant Officer. I have a word of advice before you go."

Schrodinger was able to disguise his small sigh as a cough, but he didn't think he could do the same with an eyeroll, so he didn't try it.

"Schrodinger", the Major said, "you are a thinking creature by nature, are you not?"

He was, indeed; currently, Schrodinger was thinking about how hard he would have to punch the Major in the gut to get through all of his layers of fat.

"I believe the biggest flaw of this last mission was that the enemy had the advantage of forewarning. I believe Alucard is at his most... captivating... when his arrivals are unannounced."

The Major knelt down, and leaned in towards Schrodinger. The smell of engine oil was strong about him as his lips curled into a smile.

"Here, therefore, is something for you to think about. The best way to get Alucard into a place that doesn't know he's coming is to goad him into such, _nein_? Why don't we do some goading then?"

**Author's Notes:**

**If you can't tell, I'm not fond of author's notes, but there are a few things I have to address.**

**Thing 1: It's been a while since I've uploaded. I have returned from the land of the living to bring the dead this crap in a box. Unfortunately, life is becoming rather difficult, and I've gotta make time cuts somewhere. I will no longer be updating on a regular schedule; however, the story is by no means dead, and I shall see to it that it gets finished, at all costs.**

**Thing 2: Any resemblance that Cain carries to Stephan Weyte or Caleb from Blood are probably somewhat purely coincidental... maybe.**

**Thing 3: I know there's some pretty heavy themes in here, especially for a story that has Asinine in the title, and for the next few chapters, it's going to remain pretty heavy. Fair warning, if you think it's dark now, it's about to get ten times darker.**


	22. Chapter 19: Welcome to Heck

_Sometimes a little soul searching doesn't hurt. When you've lived as long as I have, you learn to only scratch the surface a little at a time. Go in too deep, and it comes out like a tidal wave. And no one wants that... especially not me. _

_-excerpt from the Vampire Journals _

Chapter 19: Welcome to Heck

"So, this one's yours", a thick Scottish accent asked.

Seras barely cracked open an eye to see two shadows standing over her. One wore a cross around his neck, that glistened in the reflective light, and the other wore reflective, red-tinged glasses. Other than that, they were indistinguishable, but it didn't take a genius to know who they were.

"Yes", the other shadow said softly.

"You did it?"

"...Yes."

"What did it cost?"

"...Everything."

For a long moment, there was a silence between the two men, as they observed Seras lying on her makeshift bed.

"Take stock of that cost", the first silhouette said, "and decide here and now if it was worth it."

The other shadow was silent for a while.

"You're right", he finally conceded.

"I'll leave ya to it, then", the first said, as he turned and left the room.

Seras' eyes once more felt heavy, and she let them gently close.

...

Alucard observed the sleeping form of his apprentice, watching her chest slowly rise and fall. She had been through quite a lot in the last few hours, and now, she was finally getting some much-deserved rest. Anderson had mentioned, in passing, that something had happened while she had been near death, something that he couldn't quite explain, and that she had persevered despite the odds being entirely out of her favor. Frankly, if he was feeling his own chest swell, it was from pride.

He adjusted himself on the folding chair the Iscariots had allocated for him, and reached into his pocket, withdrawing the small journal that had fallen out of her own pockets. He wondered if she had worn shorts solely to bring this little journal along, more than likely to record her thoughts about a strange new country she had never been to, and then wondered about the implications of that. She had had those shorts on for almost a day before they had even begun their journey, forsaking her mini skirt in favor of it. She had known about the trip before Alucard had... which meant that Integra was warming up to his apprentice faster than he was.

He scoffed at the thought, and opened up the small journal, figuring it was safe to do so. Anderson had rounded up the Iscariots, and had ordered the large group to give Pip and Six Gun a tour of the massive cathedral, so the Iscariots had moved Alucard and Seras into a small supply closet and left the two of them alone together. So far, he hadn't been bothered by any Iscariot intrusions, so he guessed that Anderson was watching them very closely, and doing a fantastic job of keeping them separate from Alucard.

If he was going to get a look into Seras' mind, now was the time.

The inside of the journal held a great many surprises for Alucard. Seras didn't just draw well; she could have given Bob Ross a run for his money. The drawings were cartoonish, yet lifelike, like something you'd see in an anime that took a whole year per episode to make. Some of the pictures were colored in, and in some ways, they looked more vibrant and lively than their real world counterparts.

And the characters...

Every few pages, there would be either a headshot, or a full-body drawing of someone she had recently met. Their expressions often conveyed a wide range of emotions, from genuine disinterest, to dangerous smiles. Pip had a rather interesting picture in which he was rolling his one good eye, his cigarette perched precariously between his lips.

Here, a picture of Integra, sitting at her desk, her hands clasped together, her weaved fingers perched up over her mouth. Her eyes looked off to the side, as if she were pondering something deep and provocative, and her cross dangled from her neck, one corner barely touching her desk. There, a picture of Walter, a soft, yet smug smile adorning is face. Even though he had Alucard's laundry wrapped around his forearm, he looked completely in control.

The most stunning ones, however, were of him. He had a suave, yet dangerous pose about him in almost every picture, and yet, every picture was entirely different. The most interesting one, a side-complexion headshot from a time when he had begun chewing on the tip of Abraham's old crucifix, hefting one of his handcannons with the intent to eliminate a particularly stubborn rat problem, had been interestingly transplanted to the outside world. Underneath it was a paragraph of text.

_Master seems to have a plan for every occasion. He rarely ever discusses his plans with anyone. I wish he would trust me enough to discuss his plans with me. Maybe then I'd feel comfortable enough to trust my own plans with him. _

An interesting paradigm, and it only got deeper the more small subtexts he read. Over a picture of him giving Seras a sly half-smile, hiding his sharp teeth behind his tight lips, there were a few words;

_Sometimes he looks at me like this. Not quite smiling, not quite frowning. It always scares me. _

But by far, one of the most impressive was a side profile of him on the train with Anna. He had perched his head up onto his hands, his smile gone. In its place, he had a look in his eyes, as if he were trying hard to act like he wasn't thinking about much of anything at all.

_I wonder what he's thinking about. _

_Actually, that could sum up almost every subtext here,_ Alucard thought to himself.

He was being made aware that he was pushing her away, and as she lay there sleeping, he made a conclusion that he had been avoiding for some time.

He was being entirely unfair to her. This unfairness was, partially, her fault. But it wasn't because of any particular thing she had done.

He stroked the area above his canines on his upper lip, trying to feel if there was any amount of bulge or even give to it. No such luck. His venom was still dry.

And because his venom had run dry, he had, officially, lost his one chance at a happy ending.

He had long ago laid to rest the fact that Cain could neither be found, nor killed, and despite the rasping's of his family physician to never give up hope... and stay on task despite said hope... there was no be all, end all cure to vampirism that he had ever come across. Even the tale of Saint Christopher left little hope for his kind when vampires hadn't even been written into the bible.

His last hope, therefore, had been to focus on himself. A longshot within a longshot of a happy ending, with a family of sorts, and a quiet, comfortable life out in the middle of nowhere, something that he had been denied in his former life, and something that had always nibbled at the back of his head, a what-if in which he, for once, could settle down, relax, and put a genuine smile on his face.

The conclusion he had finally come to was that he had denied himself that happiness.

In that brief moment of decision in the woods near Cheddar, after seeing his own reflection in those bright, blue eyes, after realizing that he was, indeed, a hideous monster with no more resolve left, he had given his one chance away so that Seras Victoria could have another. He had given up so that she could move forward. And now he was treating her like shit because he felt like shit.

No. Not like shit. He felt hopeless.

Hopeless in the presence of such hope.

"M-Master?"

The sound broke him from his reverie. He glanced up at a face that looked like she had determined what her fate would be, and that she wasn't exactly looking forward to that fate. The way her eyes kept darting back to the little journal in his hands, it seemed like she may have put some stronger language about him in some of the later pages.

He flipped it closed.

"Police Girl", he began, "I'm not very good at this, so I'll just come out and say it. I'm sorry. I've been unfair."

"Un...fair?"

"I've been pushing you away", he said, as he began wringing his hands, "blaming you for my mistakes. That ends now."

He leaned forward in his little chair, his hands still wringing themselves, and continued.

"From now until you graduate, I will treat you like an apprentice", he told her.

Something felt off about that sentence, and the look on her face lent him the belief that she too was unsatisfied with his conclusion. He swallowed a lump that had been forming in his throat, and took a deep breath to even himself out.

"Like_my_ apprentice", he finished.

Seras looked a bit stunned by that declaration, and he couldn't help but to admit that he was a little bit shaky himself. He had always been the rock of any situation he was in. He didn't get emotional, and he didn't let people gaze into the emptiness within him. When the world was falling apart, Alucard was in control. He had to be, because when it came down to it, he was the only one who could finish the job.

"So", he said, breaking the uncomfortably long silence that had filled their little room, "what better place to start learning how to fight like me, than with a basic list of all of the enemies you'll encounter?"

Seras seemed to consider this for a moment, and then nodded.

"Alright", she said, her voice hoarse. "That sounds like a good idea."

"If you have any questions, ask me anything", Alucard told her.

She opened her mouth, but closed it quickly, nodding instead.

"There will be a few things on this list that you'll hopefully never have to face... and a few things that even _I_ haven't faced... or successfully killed."

"Well", Seras said carefully, putting on a deep voice, and odd accent, "at first you had my curiosity... now, you have my erection."

Alucard sat up straight, leveling a questioning gaze at Seras. She shrank back from his gaze a little, perhaps believing she had angered him. Instead of being angry, however, Alucard began snorting, and slapping his leg, a smile spreading across his face, which eventually turned into his head being thrown back in rancorous belly laughter.

"I've gotta remember that one", he declared, as he slapped his leg yet again.

With grin now firmly set across his face, and a humorous air now between them, Alucard started Seras off into the list.

"Alright, then, here goes; the shortest possible list of enemies you will have to face. They can be divided into these categories; Human, Natural, Magic, Supernatural, and Heavenly."

"Human enemies tend to be pretty standard; you've got the assholes who get in the way, and you've got the don't-fuck-with-these-guys. Assholes who get in your way tend to include local and state police, cultists, the Elite, familiars, mercenaries, and stupid retards. I don't rope cultists into familiars, because they're not nearly cool enough to be such. Familiars will be people who have earned the trust of Magical and Supernatural beings; they tend to be pretty tough, and when they aren't, they're crafty. Keep a close eye on them at all times, and wipe the floor with them when you get the chance. The don't-fuck-with-these-guys are people who have caught the attention of Heavenly beings, be they Good or Evil, and, as the title implies, are typically not to be fucked with. We've already run into the Remnant, or 'God's Gestapo' as me and Anderson call them, and you should just stay the hell away from them. As far as the evil spectrum goes, I've heard of a dude who got possessed by a fallen angel and wiped out a small battalion of vampire hunters. You're probably not ready for that, though."

"Natural enemies are just that, natural phenomena that inherently ails or attacks you. For instance, even though we most certainly can walk among people in broad daylight, our powers are limited, sometimes significantly depending on the day. Metals like silver and copper kill you quickly, and since everyone has copper-coated bullets these days, you need to be careful around guns. I know, I know, I'm never careful, but when you become immortal, you can tell me how I should fight."

"There are more natural enemies that you'll encounter, but they're living, so I tend to rope them into the Supernatural category. So, for now, I'll just segway into Magic."

"Magic comes in many different forms, and lots of the enemies you encounter of the magical variety can be roped into other categories as well. Witches aren't one of them. Witches are bitches, fuck witches, we need a Salem Part II: The Entire Fucking World Edition. Witches vary on strength depending on what kind of magics they use. White magic is typically seen as "good", but don't let that fool you, because those assholes can do freaky shit, and they're typically as evil if not moreso than witches who practice Black magic. Black magic practitioners deal with the devil and they know it. If they get powerful enough, they can do anything from conjuring Hellhounds to resurrecting the dead, which flows into enemies that tow the magical line."

"For instance, Zombies. Now, you've got three distinct types of zombies; two that are technically alive, and one that is dead. The two that are alive are the drug zombie, and the plague zombie. Drug zombies are almost only found in Haiti, and I've never had to 'deal' with them. Essentially, they're drugged-out slaves that voodoo dudes use for their plantations. Then you've got plague zombies, which are living humans who have been mentally impaired by some sort of outside factor, such as a virus, which causes them to attack others. Occasionally, we will have to deal with a threat like this, but it's usually a relatively easy job. Then you've got Black Magic Zombies, which are dead humans who have been resurrected and enhanced through the use of black magic. They're usually a challenge, though they're nothing impossible to defeat."

"Lots of vampires will learn magic to try and augment their fighting skills, but they're not magical in nature, hence they don't make it on the list. I've only ever fought one werewolf that had learned magic, and I've been around a while, so I guess you'll be ok there."

"There are other enemies that tow the lines of their categories, too, like the Dragon, which is technically a Natural enemy, but has a few primary forms that put it in other categories."

"_Dragons_", Seras asked, almost jumping off of her makeshift bed, "Dragons are _real_?!"

"Of course they are", Alucard told her, as if he were reading the morning paper to her. "They're not even the weirdest thing on this list. They've been in historical texts since forever, kinda like with werewolves, which were called Cynocephalus back then, most notably with Saint Christopher... but I digress. Three kinds of dragon; Drakes, probably baby dragons, really willy, stay out of their line of sight and they won't hurt you. Leviathans, fully-grown Dragons. They are naturally occurring creatures; God even talks about making them in the Book of Job. Alexander the Great has a great post-battle text in which he comes across a sleeping Leviathan, decides to do him in Caesar style, and ends up losing almost an entire Legion because of it. Stay out of their way and they tend not to harm you, but they hate all Magic and most Supernatural creatures, so when I say stay out of their way, I mean a hundred-mile radius might do the trick. Third and most terrible; Dragons, Nephilimic abominations of Leviathans. They're essentially Leviathans that have the amazing abilities of speech and greed beyond belief. Very powerful, very crafty. They'll ruin your lives, but only if they can't convince you to do it yourself. There are such things as Wyverns too, but they're just stout two-legged Dragons, probably a degenerate Nephilimic version of Drakes. Then you've got stuff like sea monsters, but hopefully you won't have to fight any of those in your lifetime."

"Rolling from that straight into the Supernatural; you've met Vampires, and you've met Werewolves, and you've seen a giant at a distance. That giant is from the Nephilim line, which is the product of Dark Watchers and human women."

Seras raised an eyebrow at that.

"Fallen angels banging chicks."

A frown creased her face.

"Seriously, did they not teach you this stuff in Sunday School?"

"Sunday School", Seras echoed in confusion.

"Oh, boy", Alucard said with a sigh. "I guess when this gay trip is over with, we've gotta crack open a Bible together. Ol' Alucard knows a lot more about the contents inside it than the average human. We're gonna read that bitch cover to cover, then we're gonna read all three of the Books of Enoch,_then_ we're gonna read the Kamasutra."

"Which Bible book is that", Seras asked.

"Heh, she doesn't know. All of that aside, besides what you've already seen, forget mythology, all of that shit is real, and most of it's deadly. You ever seen a Satyr up close? You don't wanna. Drinking their blood is like drinking black tar heroin in liquid form, absolutely skin-crawlingly disgusting. Mermaids? Oh, yeah, they're real, too. Kracken? One lives in the Bermuda Triangle, among other eldrich horrors. Fairies? Fuck fairies, man, they're bullshit and I hate them. Unicorns? Saw a man get impaled on a unicorn horn one time... it was an accident, but it was metal as fuck. Oh, and demons, too. Demons get into this category, because they are lost souls, departed from the bodies of Nephilim. Demons are nowhere near as cool as what the media would lead you to believe they are. There's also Djinn, which are like genies; they'll grant your wishes, but they take a high price. They can appear in many different forms, and there's no correct way to deal with them other than to ignore or very quickly kill them. Apparently, King Soloman had a ring that could control them; the seal on his ring is the one that was on my basement door... well, it was part of that symbol, anyway. Arthur never finished it, I don't know why."

"And, Ghouls, also ghouls, you've run into them. Humans who were turned into vampires post-mortem. Basically zombies, but stupid."

"How does that work?"

"What, being stupid?"

"No, turning. How do vampires turn others?"

Alucard reached a hand up to his face, stroking those canines again.

"Well, part of the process of being turned is developing a sort of venom sack in your gums above your canines. With that venom, of which you have a limited amount, you can turn a living human into a vampire. I won't teach you how to use it, because you'll never need it."

Seras nodded in understanding.

"With ghouls, you don't need to use this 'venom'; open up a wound, and hock a luggy in there, they'll turn within minutes."

"What happens when you use 'venom' on a ghoul?"

"You waste venom, that's what happens."

"How many more vampires can you create, Master?"

He stared quite blankly at her for a moment.

"None", he said, softly.

"S-so you used the last of your venom on me?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

A soft smile spread across his face.

"Because you were worth it", he told her.

A blush began rising to her cheeks, but she fought it back down with another question.

"What were you saving it for?"

The smile fell away from his face. Once again, he stared blankly at her. Then he cleared his throat.

"Moving on, then you've got things like Anna, Regenerators, and I already know you're about to ask me, 'if there are so many bad men with access to vampires, why aren't there more Regenerators? Easy; they're just about one-in-a-billion. First of all, you have to find the right vampire, a very powerful one, usually. Second of all, you need to use it on someone who is pure of heart, and someone like that is hard to control. Third of all, there's a whole list of shifting conditions that can disqualify someone from becoming a Regenerator, so good luck there. Fourth of all, they usually end up hunting vampires anyway, so what vampire in his right mind would willingly make one? And then fifth of all, plot armor provides vampires with the best shot at life possible."

"Then there's the Heavenly enemies you'll come across, and you can just forget it, because even if we were tasked to hunt them, which we won't be, there's no way in hell we would win in a fight against them. Angels: insane, many-winged, many-eyed, heavily armed and heavy-armored beings that it is an absolute grace we can't see, because if we could, we'd all go mad. Fallen Angels, they tend to take the form of men, much like Archangels, but don't be fooled, because an Archangel would strangle a Fallen Angel with their own frilly training bra any day of the week. There's more, but there's no point in going into it, because Lesser Gods and stuff like that, you're probably never even going to end up seeing. You've also got Lovecraftian horrors lurking in the beyond, and I'm pretty sure they're all made by the REAL evil in this world, Daniel Web- I mean, Samael. Don't say that name out loud too much, or your furniture will start floating, and then it'll start trying to rape you."

"And that basically covers the overall enemies you'll encounter. Of course, when we have enough time, Abraham collected a literal treasure trove of books on every strange thing we could ever encounter, and we'll have to go through those, too, because there's more things out there than I can remember, or go into heavy detail about, without forgetting _something_ important about one or two of them."

Seras nodded, turning her head to lean back against the small pillow, pondering all she had been told. The way she was, in that moment, struck a chord with Alucard. It was the posture of someone he had seen in a mirror a time or two.

"Police Girl", he told her, in a gentle voice.

She turned her head towards him again, an inquisitive look on her face.

"I want you to know that you'll never be alone again."

The look on her face was of confusion and a bit of shock.

"I know that feeling", he continued. "I've felt it many times, sometimes harder than most people ever have. There's declaring yourself to be alone, and then there's the smoke clearing from the burnt-out remains of your castle to find you being the last person standing, overlooking a sea of corpses. When the Turks took me to that dungeon oh so long ago, they took my innocence, my normality, my laughter, my hope, my love, and finally my brother. All that was left was me. And in that moment, I became numb to it all. The betrayal, the depression, the rape, even the loneliness itself meant nothing to me."

He looked her in the eye, as he said, "I've seen that look on your face before. You, yourself, have stood alone in a castle of corpses, and you tried to go numb, too. But that's not what you need, and it's not what you want, either. As long as I'm alive, you can always come to me."

That spark of humor returned, and he added, "Except, you know, like, when I'm taking a shit. I'm not gonna hold your hand between the stall walls. I've got Anderson for that."

The humorous spark died, and he continued, "But seriously, if you need me, you can always call on me... Police Girl."

Seras nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"When are you gonna stop calling me that", she asked.

"When you earn your name", he told her.

"How do I do that", Seras asked.

Alucard grinned, and opened his mouth to tell her to stop holding back. Instead, he was interrupted by a large outburst of gunfire. Alucard frowned, and turned towards the door. A second later, Anderson burst through the door to their back room, bayonets in hand, grimace on his face.

"Satanists", Anderson told them. "We've got the upper hand, 'cause I'm not stupid, but I'm not sure I want this fight near this cathedral, ya ken it?"

"I'll see what I can do", Alucard said, as he stood up from his chair. He turned to Seras, and laid a hand on her forehead. "Stay here, get some rest. We'll continue this conversation later."

Seras nodded, and Alucard turned towards the door, striding straight through the open door...

...into controlled chaos.

On some of the pews, Iscariots were set up with big boxes of loaded magazines, and groups of them were taking unloaded magazines from adjacent boxes and loading them, then putting them into the boxes with full mags. A few pews had been cleared away to make space for the wounded; so far there were three of them, with bullet holes punched through their chests and limbs... one could not make the argument that Iscariots weren't tough bastards.

Men in armor would occasionally run inside, grab as many magazines as they could carry, and take them back outside to the men who were fighting. A large group of armed men had gathered by the doors, and every time an armored runner went out, two armed men followed him, most of them firing off their rifles as soon as they exited the building.

Anderson took this time to pull him aside, and flash up underneath his priestly collar, revealing a skin-tight black suit with an octagonal weave pattern underneath his usual clothes.

"New armor", he explained. "Carbonite, supposedly very strong, very resilient, yadda yadda. Anyway, I plan on getting shot a lot, ya ken?"

Alucard grinned, and when Anderson returned it, their plan of action was decided.

Alucard, still down to a white button-up shirt and black dress pants, withdrew his huge handcannons from their holsters under his armpits. Anderson flicked his wrists, activating his tracts underneath his sleeves, dropping a glistening bayonet into each hand. With a last wicked grin to each other, they charged into the great outdoors. Anderson immediately began flinging bayonets with deadly accuracy, and Alucard immediately began firing his cannons with a ripping a tearing that would have made Doomguy proud.

However, the fire almost immediately ceased from the Satanists. The Catholics ceased their fire in turn, mostly out of confusion, and Alucard lowered his handcannons with an upturned eyebrow towards Anderson. Anderson, in turn, gave him a confused sneer.

The conglomerate of armored, automatic rifle-toting satanists had lowered their weapons almost entirely, and most were pointing their fingers at Alucard himself. From their crowd, a lightly armored man with a handgun strapped to his hip stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back, and strode calmly and confidently towards Alucard.

"Ah, the Dark One has arrived", the man said, extending on arm in a friendly gesture, "and indeed, he lives beyond death itself!"

Anderson gave Alucard a confused glance, which was quickly reciprocated by Alucard.

"And where would we find him", the man continued, "but in a church! How poetic!"

The man turned to the congregation of armed men behind him, declaring, "Our rescue mission is successful!"

"Um, do I know you", Alucard asked.

"Not yet, sir", the man responded, "but I will introduce myself to you now!"

"Well, get on with it then", Alucard told him.

"Yes, get on with it", Anderson yelled.

The entire Iscariot congregation behind him joined in in shouting, "Get on with it!"

The satanist, visibly thrown off by this audio assault, shook his head, and then extended himself in a long, deep bow.

"I am Herrin George", he told Alucard.

"I'm sure your parents never told you", Alucard said, "so I will; sorry your name is so stupid."

"No worries", the Herrin replied without missing a beat. "And I am here as an envoy from Half-Moon, a gathering dedicated to only the most powerful of vampires."

"So you're a cult?"

"We prefer the term 'gathering'."

"So you're a cult."

"Sure", the Herrin said, unwilling to argue any further. "As you are certainly aware, you yourself are a quite powerful vampire, and although we have had our... differences in the past, I can assure you that we will make loyal subjects in whatever ventures you have planned."

"Even if they involve killing other vampires", Alucard asked, with the makings of a toothy grin growing on his face.

"Why, of course", Herrin told him. "When gauging one's power, it is necessary to test the limits from time to time."

"And what if I wanted to kill you?"

"Well, then, it would be a necessary sacrifice for-"

The .454 crashed, and part of the man's skull separated from his head. The man took on a look of confused terror, and fell flat on his face. Alucard glanced at Anderson, who grinned right back.

The two of them jumped into the road, Alucard firing off his pistols, and Anderson throwing his bayonets, impaling cultists, and sometimes even sticking them to thin walls. By the time any of them could properly react, the road had been washed with a river of blood.

"_Where's your Chaos god now, Heretics_", Alucard yelled out to them as they were shredded by the Iscariots.

With no options left, the satanists beat a hasty retreat. The Iscariots let them go with scattered bursts to keep them running, content with holding down their holy fort. As they began dragging the wounded inside, Alucard and Anderson shared another Predator embrace.

...

When Seras finally sat up, Alucard was sitting beside her. He wouldn't look at her, even when she gently inquired about his state. Finally, he spoke.

"Men are quite simple", he told her. "Deceptively simple. It's why complete idiots like William Shakespeare can put words on a paper and have it called art."

She didn't know what to say to that, so instead, she sat there, listening to him.

"You insist that you do not understand me, but it is well within your reach to do so. You've been in my shoes more times than you're willing to admit... powerless, hopeless... fearful."

"But you've been alive for so long", she told him. "Surely you're better than me at all of this?"

He stared straight ahead, almost unmoving.

"We try to better ourselves in different ways", he told her. "Some seek themselves for betterment, others seek God. I sought Anna Valarious. She was everything I had lost; beautiful, innocent, pure. If I could make her mine, I believed I could fix my flaws with her strengths. But it was more than that; I loved her for who she was, not what she was. And who she was, was far better than I ever would be."

"I'm sorry", Seras said.

"Why", he asked.

"I just", she began, then stopped. "Can I share a secret with you?"

"Keep your secrets", he answered.

"No, please, I have to share."

"Why", he asked again.

"I just", she began, then she stopped herself, biting her lip. "I was orphaned growing up. I was in and out of foster homes. When I was small, there was this boy... I fell in love with him. You know, like, how children fall in love. Someone came to adopt him one day, and I knew he was bad. The boy promised to write me every day, and when he left with that man, I never received a single letter. I knew he was bad, but I didn't say anything. And I didn't do anything. Because I was so scared."

She finished, dropping her head to stare at the covers. A single tear escaped her eye at the memory of the boy's face. She lifted her head back up to continue.

"I just had to get that off my-"

He was gone.

"Master?"

She glanced around the room, but he was nowhere to be seen. The door to the room was open, and outside the hallway seemed to stretch forever.

_Funny,_she thought._I don't remember this door opening up to a hallway. _

"_Why did you tell me your secrets_", the voice of her master, but in a whisper.

That voice seemed to have come from everywhere. She glanced around the room, just to be sure that Alucard wasn't in it. When she was sure, a puzzled expression crossed her face.

"Master? Where are you?"

"_Who do you think I am_", the whispering continued.

"Oh, God", Seras said with an exasperated sigh. "I try to share a little piece of myself with you, and you just have to go and play a prank on me?"

"_Do not dress the dead_", the whisper continued, "_in the clothes of the living_."

Seras was beginning to get angry.

She sat up from the bed, saying, "Alright, when I find you, I'm gonna sock you in the face."

"_The dead are still where they lay_", the whisper continued, "_no matter who wears their clothes_."

"I'M GOING TO PUNCH YOU, YOU WRINKLY OLD FUCK! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

She looked down the hall, and Alucard stood at the very edge of the light. He was clothed in all of his clothing, up to his hat and glasses. He turned, and walked into the dark. Seras quickly walked after him. At the edge of the light, she began to feel cold chills throughout her body.

She almost stopped, but the whisper continued, "_Who am I?_"

"You're dead meat", Seras said, a scowl crossing her face.

She crossed over into the dark, and as soon as she did, she could see a light, a long ways off. She walked towards it, but it never seemed to get closer. She chanced a glance back, and when she did, the light was right behind her. She could see now that it was an overhead lamp, lighting a small, sterile metal table, with a body bag on top of it.

She froze, unsure of what to do. She considered going back, but she was usure that if she turned around, she would even find a way back. She thought about sinking to the ground.

"_Leave the dead where they lie_", the whisper said.

This time, she could hear it clearly coming from the body bag.

She hesitantly stepped forward, until she finally stood over the black bag. It didn't move; whatever occupied it was indeed dead. Hesitantly, she reached up towards the zipper, and quickly jerked it down.

Inside the bag was her father, white flakes still dotting the bullet hole that leaked black blood from his head. His head turned towards her.

"Hello, darling."

...

Seras awoke with a shrill scream.

"AH", a thick Scottish accent screamed back. "Jesus Christ girly! Don't scare me like that!"

She felt all around herself, pinching in various areas to make sure she was, indeed, awake. As she checked herself all over, an elderly nun stormed by.

Without even sparing a glance inside, the woman angrily yelled, "Lord's fuckin' name!"

Anderson rolled his eyes, crossing himself while muttering a prayer.

Seras turned her gaze back towards the insane priest, thankful to find that her eyes were peering upon his fully clothed body once more. She still had an image of him shirtless seared into her mind, and to be honest, it was getting her a little hot and bothered every time she thought about it... which was instantly interrupted by images of him impaling her with around a dozen bayonets.

She shuddered, and decided to remain content with his clothed figure.

"You saved me", she said, "why?"

"Mm", Anderson began, scratching his chin in thought. "Monkey?"

"What?"

"Monkey, yeah, that's it."

"So, let me get this straight", Seras said with a scowl. "Within the span of a few months, you go from turning me into a bayonet pin cushion to saving my life, and your logic behind this complete about-face is... and I quote, 'Mm, monkey'?"

"Essentially, yes", Anderson told her with a shrug. "Ya see, you atheists believe that we all came from monkeys. And while there are plenty of similarities between us and monkeys, we are, inherently, two different creatures. For instance, we think on a far broader scale than monkeys ever could. An example being Harambe, the gentle giant himself, defending a small boy from a ravenous group of zoo-goers. He did what he did because he had a soft spot for humans. But if he were to hate humans, with the boy being an exception, he would not have saved the boy's friend if he had been in a similar situation. That being said, I have endeavored to save you, little girl, simply because you are the friend of my friend, who belongs to a people group which I happen to hate. Therefore, I am not a monkey."

At first, Seras attempted to wrap her head around that logic, but when her brain hurt from thinking about it too hard, she simply nodded.

"And me not being a monkey lends simple benefits which a monkey could not reap", he told her. "For instance, monkeys are known to be smart, but not smart enough to produce truly profound leaps in logic. They can predict patterns, but _thoughts_? Perish it! Which is what brings me to your next question, that being; _why_ are me and Big Red friends to begin with?"

She had to admit, he had her there. She resigned to simply nodding her head. A wicked grin grew across his face.

"Our story begins a mere fortnight after our initial meeting. I was playing Holy Hoosiers on my XBox, when I got a request for a 1v1 in Halo Slayer. I of course accepted, and three hours later, we were still neck and neck. Naturally, I told that faggot to 1v1 me IRL, and he set up a time and place; tomorrow, high noon, on a bridge overlooking a small Romanian town."

"I took a Vatican jet all the way there, watched many an in-flight movie, and parachuted out over the designated location. And who should be waiting for me, in the middle of the bridge, shrouded in mist, standing proudly with sword in hand, but Alucard. Rules were set, that being no use of powers, magic, or surprise weaponry, whilst maintaining the code of Chivalry, and the battle began."

"Two and a half days and two nights later, we were still fightin', until a man calling himself The Tracker introduced himself, and began dancing. An argument ensued over who The Tracker could possibly be working for, which led to a near hour-long discussion concerning the politics of the Illuminati, and how they've lost the spark that made them cool and original, and are therefore no longer 'hip'."

"Well, The Tracker didn't like that conclusion, so he sent a ghoul army after us, circling us on both sides of the bridge. We beat a hasty retreat over the side of the bridge, and landed in a small Romanian village which had apparently been entertained by us for almost three days. They gave us free beer, baths, and back massages, and then sent us on our way."

"Well, turns out, me and Alucard came to something of an understanding, that which we both respect and admire each other enough to wish to kill one another, which led to a montage of us at a carnival, pointing various weapons at each other whilst enjoying the rides."

"Wait, wait, wait", Seras said, waving a hand around. "First of all, a carnival?"

"Aye", Anderson acknowledged. "T'was very convenient."

"S-second of all", Seras continued, "run that 'understanding' by me again?"

"We both have similar interests", he explained, "we both have similar hatreds, we both have a similar respect of history and its role on modern society, and we both want to murder the shite out of each other. It's a win-win fer everyone."

"So", Seras asked, holding up a hand, "your entire relationship to Alucard revolves around you two wanting to kill each other?!"

"Well", Anderson interjected, "more like me wanting ta kill him. I'm not so sure that he's as committed to the killing part as I am."

"So", Seras revised, "you want to kill him, and he just wants to endlessly fight you for his own amusement?"

"Essentially, yes."

"WHY?!"

Anderson stared at her for a moment, blinking sporadically. He straightened up, scratching his chin, and looking off into the distance. Then he began scratching the back of his head.

"Because it's... fun?"

"So you're telling me that you want to kill my Master because it's fun to do so?"

"Look, girly", Anderson shouted, jamming a finger in her face, "you try growing up in a Catholic orphanage, and then tell me all of the fun you've had doing so, aye?!"

"I", Seras began, then paused. "I'm sorry. That must have been difficult."

"Nah", Anderson dismissed, waving a hand. "Actually, _I_ should be apologizing. I know you grew up in and out of orphanages, I have no right to bring my unequal experience on the matter to bear."

"Wait", Seras interrupted, snapping her head towards him, "how do you know about-"

"Shh, girly", Anderson said, pushing his whole hand into her face. He gently tapped her shoulder, saying, "There, there."

"Um", Seras stuttered, brushing his weak shoulder pats off, "how did you know about me being orphaned?"

"Alucard told me", he said with a shrug. "Says he can tell."

"He can... tell?"

Anderson fixed her with an odd look.

"It's pretty easy to tell when someone's had their childhood stolen from them", he told her. He glanced away, as if trying to find a point in the distance, remarking, "Especially if the same could be said for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Anderson glanced back down at her.

"When he was a wee lad, he was taken from his home, into a whole other country. Then, for ten years, he was abused, tortured, and raped. Do ya think somewhere in that time, he got to run around and play? Or that afterwards, he just came home and got to be happy? You don't walk away from something like that, girly."

_Unless_, she thought, _you live for five hundred years. _

"Stop it", Anderson snapped, "I know that thought and it's a bad one!"

"Wh-"

"He'S lIvEd a LOnG lIFe, tHaT'S dIFFerEnt! Take that thought and shove it!"

"I didn't-"

"Sure, ya did. I used to have a short life span meself; I'm not an idiot."

"Oh... I-"

"Don't apologize, I get it. And when ya live a long time, you'll get it, too. Some scars don't heal", Anderson said, brushing a hand over his damaged cheek. "Sometimes they're too deep, and sometimes you just can't rest long enough. For Alucard, both of these reasons ring true. Did he ever tell you that he was king to a whole nation? Or that his kingship began as soon as he left that dungeon, at no more than the age of eighteen?"

That was certainly news to her. She couldn't see him ruling his way out of a paper bag, not with the way he acted. Except, maybe, when he got those far-off looks...

Suddenly, a few things began clicking in her mind.

"Is he-"

"Just now beginning to branch out emotionally, starting with sarcasm? If 'just now' can include the past ninety years or so, then yes. Also, a good thirty to fifty of those years were spent in a dungeon. My math sucks, so I'm not sure."

"...Oh."

"Don't apologize, he wouldn't accept it anyway. You're a child, you know nothing of the man, and he's just now starting to figure _you_ out, to boot. I just thought you might want to know."

He reached up, and brought a hand down on her shoulder. She thought, maybe, he had meant it as a light, reassuring tap, but after he lifted his hand, she checked to make sure none of her joints had dislocated all the same.

"Anyway, after that, Tracker came back with a Juggernaut Werewolf, so we murdered the shite out of it. Then we played poker, and then we went home. The end."

"And so, you two are friends because you want to beat each other up indefinitely."

"Aye", Anderson told her with a stern nod. "But there's more to it than that. Ya may not think it, but men are inclined to deep, philosophical thought. We happen to have a similar philosophy, one that's rare to find in people who are... shall we say, our age?"

"I... think I understand."

"No, you don't. And that's ok. Everything's different when it finally sets in that you're going to live forever, that the face you see in the mirror is the same one you're going to wake up to every single day from now until an uncertain demise in the near, or perhaps rather far future. In many ways, it's like waking up and realizing that you've taken up residence in Heck, Hell's slightly retarded cousin, and now you're stuck in a contract that even the greasiest lawyer on earth can't get you out of."

"Well, that sure makes my future look bloody bright."

"I'm not going ta sugar coat it. Ya deserve ta know that it gets consistently worse the longer yer around."

"Why?"

Anderson stroked the stubble that was beginning to build up on his face, and replied, "Knowing that right off the bat makes it harder for you to make the same mistakes that most of the rest of your kind do... like yer blood sugar daddy did."

"Blood sugar daddy? What in hell's ringin' bells is that supposed to mean?"

Anderson grinned, then turned around and walked out of the room. Out in the hallway, he came within inches of bumping into Alucard, who was coming back to the room.

"Look, man", Alucard told Anderson, "I promised you a favor, and you've got it. Name it now, or I'll leave with all the donation money."

"Bloody bag snatchers", Anderson growled, "Ya ain't gotta threaten me, I was actually just lookin' for ya. I've got a job, and it ain't that bad. Those arseholes from earlier, Half-Moon? I've been lookin' into 'em fer a while, now. About a week ago, the Vatican came down hard and told me to make a full stop on such actions. Now, that's got me suspicious, so I want to know what ties they've got to the Vatican, and _then_ I want 'em all dead, just ta teach those tweakers in Rome a bloody lesson."

"Done."

"Wait... done? Just like that?"

"I've got history with them. You'll never hear from them again after I'm done with them."

"Not hide, nor hair."

"Cross my ass and skullfuck me."

"Bet. One other thing; if ya hear or see anything about a guy called 'The Librarian', let me know."

"Why?"

"He stole a few books from the Vatican. Last he was seen, he was talkin' to that guy whomst ya turned ta soup."

"Sure, why not?"

"Excellent. You nutbags can rest here for another two days, but then I'm kickin' the lot of ya out."

"That's more than enough... and more than generous. Thank you."

"Lick me shaft and deepthroat me bag, ya crack whore."

"Will do, buddy."

With that, the two men parted ways, and Seras began feeling tired once more. She laid her head down on the pillow, wondering how such an unlikely pair came to be such good friends. Sleep took her quickly.

**A/N: I hate doing Author's Notes, but I've gotta put this one here; I have gotten so much support recently, and I am completely blown away. Thank you all so much!**

**...but for the love of all things holy, _PLEASE_ give me some feedback, y'all! I don't know what I'm doing right or wrong if y'all don't tell me!**


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